Another In Your Place
by Azul Bloom
Summary: ...but to always be a boy and have fun means to never know the extent of love.
1. Prolouge: Of Dreams and Visions

**Author's Note and Disclaimer (Please Read)**

My talents are slowly developing; therefore as time passes by, I find myself going back and revising earlier chapters. Mostly, it is only proper grammar, spelling and syntax that are affected but if I do change actual content, I will notify you in an author's note. Remember that this is not the finished product, but a work in progress.  
Based strongly on the 2003 film but includes some of the overlooked elements of the novel.  
I encourage questions, comments, concerns, and even flames (as long as they are constructive).

* * *

**Another in Your Place**

**Author:**Azul Bloom  
**Beta:** Cheetahlee942  
**Rating: **PG13

**Summary:**

(Prologue set 3 months after the end of the '03 movie.)

Peter Pan chose to forget all about his great adventure with Wendy Darling, and all was well again, more or less. But Hook returns from the belly of the beast armed with the cryptic truth about Neverland and sets a plan in motion to finally rid himself of the eternal youth. On one enchanting evening, an older Wendy finds herself in need to return to a world she believed had been all a dream. His frightening yet deep feelings rediscovered, Peter vows to make her stay, but time has passed and life went on; is it too late for Peter Pan and His Wendy?

* * *

**Prologue: Of Dreams and Visions**

It was so cold.

It was so dark.

He felt heavier than he thought he could ever feel.

He searched his mind for the wings to fly; a happy thought of any kind, but to no avail. They were all stolen, like precious diamonds looted in the quiet solitude of the night.

_"You are just a boy."_

Her voice whispered in the darkness; the haunting ghost that forever invaded his fleeting sanity. That sweet voice, for which he had perched outside the stained glass window so often an evening, to listen to, as it spoke of fantasies and epic battles, which always ended in happily-ever-afters.

_"You are...incomplete!"_

His voice slithered through the enclosing darkness, and circled at his feet, thick as the foul muck found in the quicksand bogs of the Neverland. He struggled to lift his feet from the vile words, and felt hands clutching at his throat, blocking the air from reaching his lungs. He lost his balance as the two voices intertwined, forming a gust of dark wind that struck him with the force of a falling tree and threw him backwards, down the crater that crumbled behind him.

He was falling.

Falling fast.

Falling hard.

He felt the pull of the floor beneath, calling out for his death. He struggled to twist his body around to look below as a terrible fear overpowered him, seized his breathing. _Why be afraid of death? _was the thought crashing through him. Never had he been afraid of his own death, so why was _this_ all so horrifying? Desperate now, he scraped the bottom of his heart for one, single, joyous thought. His eyes opened wide and his hands flapped around in the air, as if grasping for anything to slow his fall.

But there was nothing in the dark air that could save him now, and nothing in his heart to hold dear. The fear continued to grip at him, as he saw the ground coming closer, and closer. Soon he would hit it with all the force of his frail body, falling from stories high. There was nothing left to do now, but simply close his eyes and prepare for the end. But instead of the painful thud, he felt his body suddenly jerk as it came to a halt and his limbs dangled downwards. Confused, he opened his eyes and - to his surprise - he was hovering just a few feet above the ground. His elusive breath finally returned, and he realized that he'd not stopped himself, but rather something had snagged him from the back of his trousers.

"Who?"

He turned his head to gaze upwards, and there holding him was one porcelain hand. His sight followed the length of the arm, and up he stared into a pair of the most celestial eyes he had ever seen. It was a girl, so familiar, yet not. She was such a sweet vision of beauty, who smiled lovingly as her eyes traveled softly around his face, staring profoundly at everyone of its features as if he was the dream and she was the dreamer. Draped around her childlike form was a delicate nightgown, snowy white and dancing softly in an absent wind, bare feet and golden curls, with eyes of sapphire gleaming bright.

_"Peter"_ she spoke softly as if she knew exactly who he was, and had been waiting patiently in the darkness just for him. Peter looked on, bewildered and muted by the entire ordeal, as golden pixie dust collected to her side from the emptiness surrounding them, forming the blurred figure of a young boy.

"Who...are you..." were the only words he could mumble as an indescribable sense of security and belonging overcame him like a wave of warm sunlight thawing out his icy body.

The figure finally materialized completely. Peter could see fire-red hair and a pair of forest-green eyes, so like his own, with a twinkle of mischief towards the left of each, staring back at him. A wickedly happy smile brushed along the boy's lips.

The lovely girl looked to red headed-lad, their smiles never wavering, and he nodded in understanding of words not needed to be spoken. The boy returned his gaze to Peter and reached out his hands, gently placing them under his arms and hoisted him to the floor, where he let him down softly. They drifted before him, still smiling in their silent knowledge. So bewildering was it all, but so comforting as well.

_It is not time yet, little ones, _came a voice from nowhere, and yet everywhere, blanketing the area with a sweet presence that seemed to soothe his violently pounding heart. The two children looked up, bringing their hands closer until they locked. They smiled in acquiescence to the voice, and turned their loving gazes back to Peter Pan for just one more look before fading back into the shadows from which they came, leaving him alone in the darkness once again.

"Wendy?" It was the sweetest voice he had ever heard. The only one that would forever be forged in his heart.

"Wendy?" he said, but it did not respond.

"Wendy?" he cried out again, but it was gone...

"Wendy?" his eye lids fluttered open as he voiced the words from his dreams. But there was no more all-consuming darkness, and there were no heavenly children before him. In their place were leaves and vines carefully woven into twigs and sticks just a few feet above his supine body. It was nighttime, and he was in Wendy's old house, high above in the trees, where the Fay had helped him lift it to three months ago. His old hideout was no longer safe, for the remainder of Hook's pirates now knew of its location. So, upon his return to Neverland, the morning after he took Wendy and the boys back to London, Tinkerbell had gathered the fairies to lift the tiny cottage up into the protective shrubbery of the tall evergreens.

He gazed absently into the roof, recalling the images that still hovered in his mind. It was not a nightmare, and it was not a dream. It was just a thing, a vision that came to him almost every night as he slept since the day he said goodbye. It was always the same. The frozen chill of the darkness tried to consume him as he found himself dropping into the unforgiving void, but always, when all seemed hopeless, those children would appear and save him from his sure doom, but never speaking more than his name. Who were they and why did he see them every time? The girl herself was the stunning image of childhood beauty, but the warmth that she evoked from him was not at all like that which Wendy created. It was different, yet mysteriously comforting all the same. And was it not Wendy's voice that would call them back into the nothing?

He turned around onto his stomach, reaching his hand out to the tiny brown pouch that always lay next to his face. He propped his weight on his forearms as he opened the dusty thing, reaching in and pulling out a shiny metal ornament. He brought it before his eyes, staring intently as the moon's shine reflected off its polished exterior.

_"Peter,"_ the engaging voice from his dreams whispered softly around him as, in his mind, he saw the vision of beauty with the sweet laughing smile. Two orbs of crystalline blue formed from the glittering dark around her, and two rosy lips parted slightly allowing him to see the source of the alluring voice. He closed his eyes and her face became clearer. She smiled tenderly as her perfect blue eyes looked deeply into his own, prodding through the shield of pretend that he had erected around himself. Sure, he roamed the Neverland playing and laughing all day long, but her memory had not left him, unlike all his other memories eventually did. He knew she was different, for it was only because of her that he knew of the passing days and lonely nights. She would remain with him, throughout his golden existence.

Fully overcome by the bittersweet image, he opened his eyes and sighed with remorse.

"Wendy Moira Angela Darling," he whispered as he held his gaze firmly on the kiss. "You should not have left. I offered you so much in my home...you are not meant to grow old..."

_"There is so much more,"_ whispered the solemn response.

"More..." he repeated. "What more? What did you mean?" he pleaded for the elusive answer.

_"I don't know ... I think it becomes clearer when you grow up."_

"When you grow up," he repeated. "Grow up." Such a depressing thought. _To grow old and drift into the obscurity that all mundane things eventually drifted to. How could she have ever wanted to do that? Why not stay in this magical land, where nothing wicked could ever reach them? Where she could live an eternity of joy by his side, always in his protective sight._ So many questions riddled his understanding, and he was sure, they would never be answered. They would only plague him into eternity

_It can't be like this, _he thought in lament. _I can't remember. _Her memory would forever haunt him if he did not let go now, before her memory burrowed firmly into his being. Already he yearned for the tingle of her lips on his, and already, it was much too frightening for a child to entertain. He considered that kiss the defeating action that precipitated his problem. It was that very thing that did not allow him to forget her. Through it she forever spoke to him, and with it near him always, the _'more'_ would grow ever more enticing. It was a harsh thought, but he knew it was the only way. He tightened his fingers around the kiss as he gathered the courage within him to do what he knew had to be done, if he was to gain any piece of mind ever again.


	2. Don't Take Our Wendy!

**Author's Note:**

**8/18/04 - The content has been slightly revised to include more description of the boys' love for their sister, Wendy, and more background information on Charles. Not truly detrimental.**

**Chapter 2: Don't Take Our Wendy**

"Avast, scoundrel!" John cried, as he lunged forward with his wooden sword.

Curly quickly dodged the strike and rolled to the right, jumping up with lightning speed, only to have two ready hands quickly scoop him under the armpits and travel over the back of his neck, locking him in an unbreakable hold.

"Traitor!" Curly yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling to free himself from the steel grasp.

Tootles laughed menacingly as he tightened his grip. "You were a fool to trust me, Captain Valtemore. Anyone on the seven seas knows of my unswerving loyalty to Captain Bloodless!"

Sensing his victory, John, walked in closer to his brothers, waving his sword in the air, taunting his prey, and raising his left eyebrow with a smirk on his lips. "Now, you will not interfere with my plans. Any last words?"

Curly puffed his chest as he took a deep breath, and looked defiantly into John's face. "None to you!"

"Then die silently!" John cried as he thrust his sword between Curly's torso and his left arm.

"Agh!" Curly yelped, as Tootles' hold on him loosened and John withdrew the sword. Curly clutched his stomach, as he fell over in a very dramatic death.

The two other boys laughed wickedly as Wendy appeared at the doorway, dressed in a satin blue dress that draped down below her knees and flowed over her lower shoulders.. Her golden brown hair was pulled up with a white lace ribbon, curling gently down her back. She stopped in front of the doorway, and looked around for a second before she entered the room. "Ugh!" came a sound from the floor as she walked by the two boys. "Wendy! Do not trample on the dead!" exclaimed John as he pointed with his sword to Curly beneath her foot.

"Oh, terrible sorry, Curly!" she said as she removed her foot, and continued circling the room.

"Are you looking for something, Wendy?" Tootles asked as he jumped on the bed.

"Yes, my ... other shoe," she said as she pointed to her feet, and the boys noted she was wearing but one slipper.

"Oh, I believe I saw Michael and the twins with it earlier," Curly said in a muffled voice, still face down on the floor, unwilling to break character.

Wendy turned to look at Curly. "Whatever would they want with it?"

Still with his face down, Curly replied. "Don't really know ... something about sailing."

Wendy remained silent for a second, then her eyes opened wide. "Bath time!" She quickly ran out of the room, careful to jump over Curly. "Michael! Not my new shoes!"

"Wendy," said a familiar voice from the hallway.

"Hi, Slightly, excuse me!" was the reply the boys heard.

John withdrew his sword into its holster on his waist, as Slightly entered the room, carrying his knapsack.

"Hello, gents, were should I set up camp?" Slightly asked as he jumped onto Curly's back and smiled smugly when he heard him yelp.

"Has no one any respect for the dead?" Curly asked through gasps.

The three boys laughed before John said, "In here is as good a place as any."

"Right," Slightly said, standing and allowing Curly to fully breathe. He set his knapsack down in the corner next to the closet and turned back towards the rest.

"Where are they going tonight?" Nibs asked. He'd been sitting with his back to the window the whole time, and just now looked up from his book, _The Trials of Rue,_ and acknowledged the presence of the others in the room. It was a novel Wendy had recommended, about wars and battles fought in a fantasy world, and anything that Wendy deemed good or of importance, the boys deemed of the utmost importance above most anything else.

Slightly jumped onto the bed and lay next to Tootles. He fluffed and punched the pillow and once satisfied with its comfort, he placed his hands below his head and answered. "A ball ... for the young and old ... a social gathering ..."

"Another one?" Nibs asked as he rolled his eyes.

"Ah yes, but this one is of particular importance," Slightly announced, perfectly mimicking Millicent's tone of severity and haughtiness. "There will be many prospects for proper marriages tonight."

John sighed as he removed his captain's hat, and Curly sat up on the floor. "Again with that."

"But Wendy is only fifteen!" Tootles exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"True, but soon she will be sixteen, and that is the age when suitors begin to knock on a lady's door," John replied, distraught but forcing himself to appear un-touched by the whole ordeal.

"Well, I don't like it at all!" Slightly exclaimed.

"Me neither," Nibs agreed as he slammed his book closed. "No one will dare take our Wendy away from us!" He sat up with his legs crossed below him and his fists planted firmly on his knees.

"Quite true, Nibs, old boy," Slightly's eyes twinkled that little spark he got whenever a plan was forming.

"Oh, I don't think I like that look," Tootles said with a tiny chill creeping down his spine, slowly moving away from the boy.

Nibs stretched his neck to get a better view of Slightly. "Oh but I do!" he smiled wickedly. "Tell me, what are you thinking?"

Slightly smiled. "Nothing much." He turned his gaze around the room, pausing on every boy. "Just a little mission … of sabotage!"

John quickly turned to look at Slightly and then Nibs, both smiling mischievously. "No!" he shook his head. "You mustn't do anything! This is Wendy's life we are talking about! She needs to marry well!"

"John! Will you not miss her, the day one of those pathetic excuses for 'proper marriages' takes her away!" Slightly exclaimed.

"Well, of course, but ..." he replied, his objection slowly diffusing.

"She belongs here with us, her family, her brothers," Nibs added to his argument, and that was the end of their discourse, for John's will was now on their side, although his understanding of such adult matters should have persuaded him otherwise.

With all the boys in agreement, Tootles sighed and nodded in consent. Why fight it? The boys would eventually lure him into their devious plot anyway. Besides, he loved Wendy dearly, and could not fathom the idea of her absence from his everyday life. He really had no choice. He hugged a pillow and looked down at the mattress. "Can you imagine ... a life without Wendy?"

* * *

The ballroom had been adorned extraordinarily beautifully for that night. Sir Elton Helens' eldest son had completed his studies in America, and so, his father declared it an occasion for an extravagant party and invited all in Bloomsbury. The vaulted ceilings extended two stories high, with crystal chandeliers hanging a few feet below, reflecting the warmth of dozens of snow white candles each, and creating golden auras hovering above the heads of the guests. The tall windows, dressed with silk drapes, extended from the very arch of the ceiling to the floor, allowing the night's gentle shine to enter the room, contrasting with the golden radiance of the chandeliers. White oleanders, purple tigerlilis, blue forget-me-nots, and roses of every color imaginable were in abundance all around the room, creating a sense of an enchanting night in paradise.

Mary and George Darling entered through the tall oak doors, he looking as flushed and terrified as ever, and pressing his right arm against his body, locking his wife's hand to himself for protection and help. She looked as lovely as her 16th year of age, dressed in a soft floor-length crème dress with a slight hint of yellow that clung to her perfect figure. Her hazel hair was pulled up in a dignified roll that still allowed the subtle traces of gold to shine, showing her full smiling and beautiful face to all.

Wendy walked into the room, a step behind her aunt, who turned to her to motion with a slight nod to join the group of young men and ladies now clustered to her left. Wendy smiled and turned towards the group, glancing heavenward and sighing, once she was out of her aunt's view.

_I wish these things weren't so utterly dull, _she thought as her gaze drifted past the usual guests, fully enthralled in their usual bland conversations about the weather, their attire, or reminiscing on past gatherings and discussing future ones. She sighed gently once again as she came upon the group of young adults. There was really no one there she found particularly interesting, and she hoped with all her heart that her own friends would arrive soon. Her eyes landed momentarily on the huddled group of young ladies, about her age, who could usually be found conjugating around Charles Terwood, the youngest yet most handsome – and not to mention, still eligible - of Sir Brian Terwood's two sons. He was quite the catch for any of them, for his father owned several plantations in Jamaica and it was well known that the moment his education was completed, Charles would be entrusted with one of the many thriving banks of the family's estate.

Her attention turned away from the fussy lot of young ladies a second before Charles caught sight of her. He was in mid-conversation with Lauren Bilton, an heiress to the Bilton Transportation Industries – a match made in heaven according to all. Lauren was trying her best to flatter the young man with syrupy praises and indulgent glances, when he abruptly looked up and past her, to Wendy.

"Oh, excuse me ladies..." he said and politely pushed his way through the girls who did not disguise their shock nor disappointment at his departure.

"Miss Darling," he said as he walked towards her. Wendy turned around, a bit surprised to know that it was he who called her name, for she was not even aware that he knew it. He walked up to Wendy and bowed, keeping his eyes directly on hers.

She politely curtsied in response, and waited for him to continue, but he simply stood there, gazing at her, which made her a bit uncomfortable. "Um ... quite the lovely night, is it not?" she said, attempting to break the silence.

He shook his head slightly and finally spoke, still holding his eyes on her. "Oh, yes ... it truly is ..."

_All right, something is amiss with him. _"Did you possibly have something to tell me?" she asked, hoping to uncover the reason for his forwardness.

"Well," he said as he rubbed the back of his head. "To be honest...I simply wanted to talk to you. You see, we've never really conversed."

Wendy smiled. "That is because you are always shielded by your entourage," she told him, moving her gaze to the girls, but quickly returned her eyes to him, after noting their murderous stares.

"Oh, yes," he said in a lower voice. "I seem to have that affect on some people ..."

Wendy smiled politely once again, but this time, it was to mask the annoyance she felt at his arrogant reply, and wondered how she could possibly escape a dreadfully boring conversation with the young Mr. Terwood, when she suddenly caught sight of two friends who had just entered through the doors.

"Oh, please excuse me," she said, scooping up her skirt and turning toward the doors. She took a step towards Emma and Grace and to salvation, only to be stopped by a gentle touch of his hand on hers. She turned to look down at his hand, and then up to his eyes, which still stared into her face.

"Please, Miss Darling, do not leave just yet," he said in a nervous voice. Wendy stood there, gazing into his soft blue eyes. She had never noticed how handsome he really was. His dark hair combed back away from his face, a perfectly chiseled jaw, his upper lip slightly thinner then his lower one, but both the softest tint of pink, with a slight lift on the edges which made them seem forever ready for a tender kiss. He resembled an illustration of the Roman gods she had studied in school.

They continued to stare as they both felt a flash of energy coursing through their veins, when he suddenly looked down to his hand, surprised to know he had extended it to hers. "Oh, I'm … excuse my forwardness ..." he stammered as he released her hand.

Wendy smiled politely, a bit rattled by the whole event. "It's quite alright..." she stammered back "I...should...get going...It was a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. Terwood," she told him, and returned the back of her hand toward him.

He smiled calmly and wrapped his hand around her fingers. "The pleasure was all mine," he bent his head down to meet her hand, but never removed his hypnotic stare from her eyes, and pressed his lips gently to her porcelain skin, "Miss Darling..." Their eyes remained on each other's while their hands still held the warm touch, "...and please, no need for such formalities. Call me Charles."

"Charles," she repeated absently. Somehow, he had managed to keep her attention on him and him only, and try as she might, she could not turn her eyes away from his glittering blues. She would have thought her voice to have fled from her throat, except she heard words that seemed to have come from her lips. "Well then, if I am to do you the favor of calling you by your proper name, than you are obliged to call me by mine," she paused. "Wendy."

"Wendy," he whispered as if the very use of her name left a sweet taste on his tongue. She gently pulled her hand away from his, lingering in the sensation of the brush of their fingers. She turned away towards her friends, pressing the hand he had held to her excited heart, and exhaling deeply once her face was completely beyond his view. Her quiet smile spoke of the flutter of her emotions, and for the first time while awake, she had felt as if she were walking on air, lightheaded, with a slight flicker of warmth in her chest. But as soon as she was beyond his reach, the warmth faded away into a chill, for it was a feeling she had only had and felt she should, for the golden boy with the piercing green eyes that waited for her every night, in her dreams.


	3. A House of Children, Laughter, and Stori...

**Ch. 3: A House of Children, Laughter and Stories**

It was the greatest feeling in the world! Soaring high among the clouds, with no pull of the earth beneath your feet as you stretch your arms out, feeling the cool sensation of the powder white brushing against your finger tips as you speed by. It was a feeling beyond compare, and Peter enjoyed every second of every flight.

He flew through the radiant blur of vibrant lights and flashes cloaking his beloved Neverland and passed the planets and stars, towards the world so cold and so … normal. Of course, he could fly to anywhere, America, Japan, Australia, wherever he desired, but once again, like many nights, he flew down a familiar route, to the streets of a familiar city, to London.

_Alright ... Heath's orphanage was to the right of that big clock,_ he thought as he flew above Big Ben's tower.

He was on his way, to the orphanage where the oldest of the Lost Boys use to live. Heath told him of his best friend since the day he first arrived, but now, months later, he had asked Peter to bring his friend to the Neverland as well, to join the ranks of the Lost Boys. Peter couldn't remember the last group of boys that had returned to London, but then again, he never did. He knew many had come, and eventually gone for one reason or another but as easily as they would leave the Neverland, so would his memory of their stays, of their names, and even of their faces. He found himself having to drift back down to earth every now and again in search of more children who wished never to grow old, but how often, he really didn't know. His mind refused to take note of the passing time, which was all well in his eyes.

_Oh, yes, _Peter smiled. "There it is," he said as the tattered building that housed the orphanage came into view. He quickened his flight and was on his way when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a dim light within a room on the second floor of a home. It was strange to him, for it was quite late at night, when all children should be asleep in their beds, and he was quite sure he'd heard children's laughter emanating from the room on previous nights at earlier times.

He slowed as he came upon the house, and remained quiet as he hovered above, for in that moment, it was clear, that something was tugging at him, and trying to draw him near.

Peter Pan was not only a valiant fighter and charming young lad, but also, quite an intuitive fellow. That was how he found those that wished for a life beyond all that was dull and ordinary. He could feel their wishing, their desire for more. It called to him as he would drift above their homes. But this was a different pull, for there was never any sadness, or need for more. All were happy within those walls, yet there he found himself, inexplicably drawn to that same house. He assured himself that it must be the stories that could be heard from their window which drew him, for there was almost never a night that one was not told.

The feeling he got this night was quite strange, for it was more like a calling, then a longing, and it was accompanied by a warmth he felt radiating from the pit of his heart. Something called to him, below that roof, within that room, as if there was something meant for him. It happened every night he ventured by that house, and sometimes, he'd find himself going out of his way, just to glide above it, and almost always, he'd remain by the window, hidden from sight, unsure why, and completely lost in his own mind, until the morning's first ray would warm his cheek, and he'd discover that he spent the whole night.

_That is...quite...odd... _he thought as he furrowed his young brow and remained above the home. He pondered whether to investigate further, for he was on a mission on this particular visit.

He floated there a few seconds more, when he finally smiled and floated gently down towards the window. Careful not to come within view, he stayed to the side and slowly lowered himself. A velvet soft voice became audible and further entraped his interest.

_"...but of course, he was not afraid."_

_That voice …_

_"He looked defiantly into Lord Valten's eyes, and slowly stood up from his place on the ground, where he had fallen from stories high."_ A voice so sweet, that somehow he knew, but not from his previous bewildering visits, but from before. His heart began to beat faster, and he clutched his hand above his chest, fearful that someone within that room might hear it. _"Princess Willow looked on, as she struggled in the soldier's arms. Their eyes met, and she could see, that behind that valiant gaze, he was empty."_

The words spoken were familiar as well. Peter didn't know how, but he was sure he had heard that story before. _"Lord Valten kicked Philip, thrusting him against the hard wooden floor, where he rolled over onto his back as the scoundrel rose his dagger in the air, triumphant and bloodthirsty. But the princess suddenly gained the strength of two as she managed to strike the soldier in the face with the back of her head and free from his grasp, she threw herself on Lord Valten, stopping the dagger's plunge into Philip's heart."_

He heared many surprised gasps from voices all around the room as the girl continued the story. _"He was displeased, but still, Lord Valten allowed her to say goodbye, and so, she leaned down over Philip, and gently gave him their only kiss."_

_Kiss..._ a wave of emotion overpowered him as the warmth in his heart grew stronger and spread down his limbs. He missed a breath, his mind lost in confusion. He didn't understand what was going on ... what was happening._ I ... know what that is ..._

The girl's voice seized for a moment, so Peter leaned in closer and strained to hear, and when she continued, he noted a change in her tone, as she spoke slower and gentler as if the story had become much more real to her. _"And, as it happens, that's all he needed, to know that she was forever his, and he was forever hers. He shot up with his full strength returned ... and battled their many foes. He won. They lost. But in the end, she had to go, to rule her land which was now free from the clutches of Lord Valten and his minions, for she was ready for the responsibility. And Philip boarded his ship, and returned to the sea, to live out every adventure to his heart's content. The End"_

_She was ready for the responsibility. _The end of the story landed hard on his ears and echoed in his already bewildered mind. It seemed so familiar, so real, as if he'd seen it happen, but when, he could not say. _The princess left ... left him ... but he ... let her go ...'_

_Peter! _ He gasped and almost turned into the window, for he thought the girl had said his name aloud, but quickly stopped himself as he realized that she did not ... it was just a voice, in his head ... maybe his heart.

Peter was lost in thoughts, bewildered and fully moved. He could hear the quiet whispers of praise to the storyteller and gentle goodnights said all around. The lights went out and a door was closed, and Peter remained outside the window, his back to the brick wall, still in a daze.


	4. Not For Me

**Ch. 4: Not For Me ... **

"I have had it up to hear with all your shenanigans! Do any of you have any idea what kind of damage you have done to this family!" Aunt Millicent had been going on like this for about fifteen minutes. She barged in through the front door, screaming for all the boys to line up from smallest to tallest, and so Michael, Erick, Erin, Nibbs, Slightly, Curly, Tootles, and John scrambled from all directions to stand before her.

"Three of you are nearly fourteen!" she bellowed as she looked at John, Tootles, and Curly, "and still you act like barbarians! John, I expected more civility from you!"

"Auntie, I"

"No! You do not have permission to speak! You will have that when I am done laying out perfectly clearly the consequences of your actions to your family, and most importantly, to Wendy!" She breathed hard as she stared down at every single boy. "Did any of you take _her_ well being into consideration?"

"But of course, we did it for her" Tootles said weakly with his head bent down, forcing his eyes to look up at Aunt Millicent.

She gasped, her mouth hung open, and turned to face Tootles who was second to last, next to John. "For ... her?" she asked with an eerie calm.

"Yes, it was all for her," Erick added, the twin closest to Michael.

Evident that she was about to lose whatever patience she had managed to maintain, she softly ordered, "Explain."

A moment of silence passed as they all searched for the right words, before Nibs finally spoke out, "Well, we don't think any of those boys ... were good enough ... for her ..."

She closed her eyes as she strove to breathe and retain her calm, while rubbing her temples with her fingertips. "Wendy," she paused momentarily as she opened her eyes, "is fortunate indeed to have so many proper, and wealthy young men come to court her. Why would you say that they are 'not good for her'?"

Nibs opened his mouth to answer, but realized that he had no words with which to respond. They all furrowed their brows and remained silent as they searched their minds for the reason for their driving away all suitors, until Slightly finally spoke up.

"Because, mother," he said as he rose his head to look at her with the strongest and most assured gaze, "no ordinary boy will do."

After a stern lecture, all the boys were ordered to the nursery, which was now occupied by Michael and the twins only. They trudged up the steps with their heads drooping, as if they'd been sentenced to the guillotine rather than just to an early bedtime for two weeks without play.

"I still say we did nothing wrong," Slightly mumbled below his breath as he closed the nursery door behind him.

"Of course we did!" John said firmly. "We've chased away some very important people's sons. Father could have made some very worthy acquaintances had their children not run out of this house like the devil was at their heels."

Michael giggled, "It was pretty funny how we made 'young Thomas' almost relieve himself in his own trousers when we told him our home was haunted by our deceased aunt, and even funnier when she actually roamed the halls!"

"Aww, yes, 'tis was my best performance yet," Slightly grinned remembering the whole devious charade. "Ohhh," he moaned, "my curse will fall upon all members of this familyyyy ... ohhhhhhh!" he moaned in a low voice as he dangled his hands high above his head. The twins and Michael giggled, while the older boys tried their best to suppress their smiles, but in the end, they gave up and joined in on the laughter. "Put another notch on our tally, Nibs," Slightly said as he sat down on the bed.

Nibs walked over the chalkboard placed to the side of the window, which the twins and Michael used for arithmetic problems and grammar studies. It stood on two legs and rotated vertically, allowing use of two sides. He turned it over, revealing the words **_"Proper Suitors"_** with a crudely drawn face blowing raspberries, and twelve strikes of chalk below.

He picked up a piece of chalk from the tiny tin bucket below the chalkboard and placed one more strike. "Thirteen" he said, nodding his head, "not too shabby."

"Blimey, I wasn't aware it had been so many."

Every single one of them gasped and turned quickly to look at Wendy, who had quietly entered the room. "Wendy, um...," Nibs said as he stepped in front of the chalkboard, trying to conceal its contents.

"It's alright, Nibs," she said as she closed the door behind her and walked towards the center of the room. "I just came to see how you were all doing. After being disciplined by Aunt Millicent, I usually felt like crying for days."

The boys gave a forced giggle as Wendy's concern overpowered their sense of triumph with shame. "Wendy, have we truly ruined your life?" Erick asked, hugging his toy soldier and cast his gaze down to the floor.

She turned to look at him, her heart warming by the sight of his remorse. "Of course not," she replied softly. She smiled and sat down next to him, hugging him close and running her left hand through his ash brown hair. "To be honest, I did not care much for the young Thomas Quiller Couch, or for any of those others that you all managed to run out of the house." She tilted her head and raised his chin to make his eyes meet hers. "You were right...they are not for me."

Smiles formed on the boys' faces, as they realized that Wendy was not upset at all. "Wendy, would you favor us with another story tonight?" Curly asked.

"Of course, every night," Wendy replied, smiling brightly at her little brother "and I know which one I want to tell tonight." She waited for all the boys to find a seat, on the floor, near the window or draped over the beds, wherever they could find a comfortable nook, before she began.

_"There once was a boy who lived in a land of dreams and wonders beyond our eyes. He held golden sunshine in his hair, with eyes of perfect green, and a smile that promised mischief and fun. He lived a charmed life, soaring high through the endless skies, with no wings at all, but the power of his own joy. His only task in every day was to fight the pillagers of a child's dreams, and defend the purity of innocence. He was the father and child of his land, protecting it as it, in turn, protected him, embracing him in its loving arms, and keeping him forever safe in childhood. He visits us all, in the night, while with closed eyes we still see those wonderful visions that, when awake, will never be. _

"_Now, this land of joy was not all brightness and light. It had a dark side, a most evil villain that tried night and day to be rid of the golden boy and everything he stood for."_

Wendy continued her story, moving her hands in gestures to show the brightness of every sunny day, and imitating the motion of flight, which she knew well from the dreams she had every night. As she told them of the final battle between the dark lord and the golden boy, she danced the steps of a swordfight, ending in the latter spiraling into the air, after defeating his adversary.

_"So forever, the golden boy, flies through the night, crowing to alert all the children of his arrival, so that they will wish in their hearts, with all their might, for a chance for magic, fun and flight. Such is the story of the boy ... who will never grow old."_

She spoke her last words, smiling as the visions of her dreams drifted in her mind.

"That was wonderful Wendy," Erin said as he sat cross-legged on the floor, resting his chin on his knuckles.

"But why did you not use Peter's name?" Michael asked.

Wendy turned to face him, a bit surprised by his comment. "His name?"

"Yes" he replied with an innocent look on his face.

"Have I...ever told you this story before?" she asked a bit confused.

Michael moved his lips, about to respond when John quickly chimed in. "But of course, a long time ago. I know I've heard of it."

"Yes, except then you included us all, and this time you did not," Nibs added.

"No," the twins said in unison, looking around at all the boys. "It was not a story!" one said. "Peter really did come!" the other added.

"Yes!" Michael exclaimed, relieved that some one else shared his knowledge.

"Please .,. you have _obviously_ confused reality with a fantasy," John said as he took his glasses off and cleaned the lenses with a cloth.

"I'm telling you, he's real! We were there! We were all there," Erin exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

"That kind of thing cannot be real!" Slightly rebutted from across the room.

"Of course it can!" Michael screamed back at him. Soon enough, the nursery resonated with arguments between the older boys, stating the impossibility of such a story being real, and the younger boys exclaiming that they knew it was. As words were exchanged, Wendy walked towards the window and leaned against the sill, looking up into the heavens, for a familiar sight. A far away glow twinkled bright as her eyes rested upon it. Peter Pan couldn't possibly be real, could he?


	5. The Riddle and the Hidden Treasure

**Chapter 5: The Riddle and The Hidden Treasure**  
  
Something was wrong, well, perhaps not wrong...but different. Peter had noted the change from day to night was coming all the sooner lately. He would have been more worried right at the moment he noticed it happened, but the night that fell was not ominous at all, but simply lovely. The moon gleamed brighter, as it showered the land with silver, and the water's glittered with a pure snowy sparkle as the calm ripples danced in the soft wind.  
  
Although he was not particularly worried, he did find himself a little bothered by the change, for after all, it was change and Neverland, was not meant to do so. He went to the mermaids, and asked if they knew, but those blasted things speak only in riddles, and so the only answer he got was:  
  
**_"Day is going, but night is falling. The son is drifting beyond her reach, which saddens her, and sends her to the dark, but she will let go...and joy...for still there is light in the future..."_**  
  
Peter flew back to the new underground home after their meeting, still contemplating the words. "Of course the sun is leaving! That's what I told them!"  
  
_'But who's the 'she' they speak of?'_  
  
"The mermaids are loosing it!" he thought, giggling softly as he landed on the ground, and pulled the vine that opened the hidden door below the thick root of the enormous tree. He walked in, with his gaze down as he tapped his lips with his fingers, still pondering the ridiculous riddle, when he something suddenly struck him on the top of his head.  
  
"Ow!!!" he yelped as he lowered his head and rubbed the throbbing area with his hand. He looked up and saw a root from the tree protruding from the top of the entrance way. "I've never noticed that there....Tink!" he yelled.  
  
She immediately flew out of her apartment made of pearl white seashells with purple petals for a curtain, and rushed to his side. Noticing that he rubbed his head, she moaned sympathetically and rubbed the spot with her own hands, forming giant circles, and getting tangled in his hair.  
  
"Ow, Tink! Your making it worse!" he said as he grimaced and tried to pull her out, but the tangles held her tight in their grasp.  
  
He sighed as he flew over to a dirty little cupboard hung up on the wall, and grabbed a pair of scissors, turning to the only mirror in the whole tree house, to cut the hair that held Tink. Free, she floated to before his face, brushing off the hairs still holding on to her.  
  
"You might as well give me a proper hair cut...I don't know how I could ever see through all this hair hanging in my face!" he said as he handed her the scissors.  
  
Tink looked at him and softly chimed to herself, "It wasn't this long before..."  
  
Unaware of what she said, Peter turned his face to the entrance way with the protruding root. "But first...tell me who pulled the root out so that I may hit it on my way in?"  
  
Tinkerbell chimed, "I dunno..." as she opened and closed the scissors.  
  
"Hmm...well...who ever it was....good prank..." he said as he smiled and Tink went to work.  
  
"Peter!!!" cried Juni as he tumbled down a shoot.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, as chunks of blond hair fell to the floor.  
  
"Look!!! Look what we found!" he said as he rolled onto the floor and ran to Peter, holding up a rolled up tattered piece of brown paper.  
  
"It's a treasure map!" added Kip as he slid down a thick vine.  
  
Tinkerbell seized her work at the sound of his words and looked worried as Peter smiled and took the map from Juni's hands. He opened it, noting the entire island laid out before his eyes, with a red line, to signal the path to a hidden cave below the island from the old tree house. "Where was it?"  
  
"Buried! A few feet away from the old home." Heath answered, as he slid down the same tunnel that Juni has just entered through.  
  
"Tink...are you done?" he asked, bringing her away from her thoughts. She quickly flew around his head, nipping strands of hair and then chimed "Yes..."  
  
"Who's up for a treasure hunt!!!" announced Peter. The boys yelled out in approval as they scattered to the tunnels that led to the surface.  
  
"You coming Tink?" he asked as he flew to the pathway.  
  
Tinkerbell looked at him momentarily with an odd look that seemed to show something between sadness and joy, danger and hope. She sighed gently as she shook her head and placed the scissors back on the cupboard before returning to her apartment.  
  
Peter wondered about her, but not for more than two seconds, after which he flew out of the underground and up into the daylight yelling, "Be careful lads! This could be a trap! ... and most likely it is if it's a pirate's treasure!"

* * *

Peter gasped for air as he shot up from the water, turning around to wait for the other boys. It was dark and gloomy, for no sunlight could reach deep within this hidden cave. The only light in there emanated from giant fluorescent mushrooms which multiplied as it bounced off diamonds etched along the walls. Kip was first to arrive, huffing for air as he swam to the rocks. Next was Juni, who did the same. Peter waited for a few seconds more before he became worried for Heath and Tweed, when suddenly Heath surfaced, pulling Tweed out and pushing him to the rock.  
  
"That is quite the dangerous path! Through Dead Men's Bogs, across Mermaid Lagoon, and behind the Black Castle through an underwater tunnel?! To swim such a distance without taking a breath was truly terrifying!" exclaimed Heath. "Someone really didn't want this treasure to be found!"  
  
"That only means it must be a grand treasure!" exclaimed Peter as he spiraled into the air, sending drops of water flying in all directions, landing on the boys, who were trying to dry off as well.  
  
"Hey!!" they exclaimed, to which Peter laughed in response.  
  
He landed back on the ground and looked around, trying to remember the last bit of the map, which he had to leave behind, for it would not have made it through the water path anyway. He spotted a large boulder shaped like the fins of a mermaid, and smiled. "There...it was twenty-three paces north from that rock!" he said as he flew up, with one hand on his sword. The boys ran after him, but where slowed down once they reached the sandy part.  
  
As Peter arrived to the very spot, he noted a rock set on the ground. He moved in closer, and rubbed the algae and mold from the inscription, which read,  
  
**_"To Live...Would Be an Awfully Big Adventure"_**  
  
"How odd" said Heath as he hovered behind Peter.  
  
Peter looked at it for a second more, feeling connected to those words, but quickly shook the thought from his head, and picked the boulder up, setting it down a few feet to the side. He then turned to the boys, and said "Okay men...get to work! Find me that loot!" in his best pirate voice.  
  
The boys dug a hole Peter's height with their bare hands, and pulled out a small wooden chest, no bigger then their toy croc with the clock imbedded in it. They set it on the floor, near Peter's feet.  
  
"Open it, Peter!" said Tweed as he jumped up and down.  
  
"I bet it's pirate's treasure" said Heath.  
  
"Yeah! Rubies and gold!" said Juni.  
  
"Diamonds and pearls!" added Kip.  
  
Peter drew his sword and rose it high in the air, bringing it down with all his might upon the lock. It easily split in two, and fell in two pieces down to the ground. He placed his sword on the floor and put his hands on either side of the small treasure chest. A triumphant smile appeared on his lips as he bit the lower one, in anticipation. A slight tug up, and the lid opened, and the smile disappeared from his face. He released his hold on the lid and it dropped back with a light thud.  
  
"What is it Peter?!?!" exclaimed Tweed as he anxiously jumped up and down.  
  
Peter reached in with his right hand and out he pulled a tiny dirty and somewhat damp brown pouch.  
  
"Is ....that all there is?" exclaimed Heath as he twitched his lips to the side.  
  
Peter starred at the pouch, as he heard a light whisper in the air, mumbling words too softly to note. He paused for a moment, as if he were slightly afraid to open it, as if it was hidden, for a reason. He pulled the small pouch open, and turned it over above his palm, and out, fell, a tiny metal object, round and enclosed, with the opening at the end where it was widest.  
  
"That's it?" asked Kip as he leaned in closer.  
  
Peter nodded in response, still starring intently at the odd ornament in his palm. The whispers became louder, and he was sure he heard a girl's gentle laughter.  
  
"A thimble?" asked Juni, disappointment evident in his face.  
  
_'Thimble'_ Suddenly, the gates opened, and so poured in, memories of days long ago, like a cascading waters in a long dry riverbed.  
  
_'I would like to give you a thimble'_  
  
Sapphire eyes, golden brown hair, and a set of soft red lips that formed an ever present smile.  
  
_'Ah yes...a kiss...'tis a powerful thing'_  
  
A young boy, second in command, and always by his side.  
  
_'I suppose I am to give you one, now'_  
  
A nursery filled with stories and laughter....the nursery he had been drawn to all along!  
  
_''Tis just a thimble'_  
  
Piercing dull blue eyes with a swirl of red at the pupils, and a warmth in his heart that overcame his whole body, as she leaned in closer, and pressed her sweet lips to his own.  
  
"Wendy" he said, with eyes open wide. The memories overpowered his mind, as he stumbled back onto his rear.  
  
"Peter? Are you all right?" asked Heath, but Peter did not respond.  
  
Suddenly a vivid memory appeared in his mind. He was in that very cave, digging the hole, and placing the open chest inside. He saw a lonely tear drift down his cheek as he opened his hand above the chest, and dropped the brown pouch inside. He quickly closed the lid and began to pour the dirt on top as more tears rolled down his eyes. He carved the words into the stone and placed it above, marking the spot. He had chosen to forget, but he could never completely let go, so he made the map and buried it, so she would never truly be lost to him, at all.  
  
"Wendy" he repeated, and his heart gave out a sigh as it was finally allowed to tell of her name.

* * *

_'There she is...'_  
  
As soon as he had accompanied the boys back to the new underground home, and placed Heath in charge until his return, he set out for the familiar route to the Darling home. He had arrived and noted that her bed was no longer in the nursery, so he had searched through all the windows in the house for her sleeping figure, and finally, he found it.  
  
_'She is...so....beautiful'_ He thought to himself as he watched her breath softly, her lips forming a slight smile.  
  
_'What could she be dreaming about?'_  
  
Tinkerbell floated to his side, looking into the window at the sleeping girl, but turned to Peter and chimed, "Peter...you had chosen to forget...do you still want to hold on?"  
  
Peter turned to look at his fairy, no longer the envious little pixie, but simply caring. "I never truly forgot...her face and voice have always haunted me..."  
  
"Peter...you can't be a boy if you feel...it will turn you into a man...sooner or later..." she said, trying desperately to conceal the truth that he was already becoming one. She was surprised that he hadn't noted the changes, for even though he was not one to remember the passing of time or the subtle changes it brought, these changes were truly evident. If he tried to glide in through the window, fully erect, he would probably barely slide through without bumping his feet or head. His whole body had thickened quite a bit, as the baby fat was slowly melting away from his limbs and face, revealing the presence of a strong-set jaw line.  
  
"No...it won't" he said as he returned his gaze to Wendy. "I want always to be a boy...and have fun...I will never let go of Neverland."  
  
Tinkerbell looked at Peter, as he stared in through the window. _'But Neverland might let go of you...'_


	6. White Roses

**Ch. 6: White Roses**  
  
There was something ...or someone outside her window. Her eyes slowly opened as she heard the gentle tapping once again._ 'Can it be'_ she thought as she sat up in bed and looked towards the window, but saw nothing. How could she? She was on the second floor...who could reach so high...unless....they could fly?  
  
"Peter?" she whispered as she got up. _'No...it can't be ...don't be a fool...he's not real...'_ said her mind urging her to get back into bed.  
  
_'It is Peter...he is as real as the floor beneath your feet...and he has finally come back for you...'_ said the voice in her heart.  
  
"Peter...Pan?" she asked a little louder as she picked up the robe draped over the edge of her bed and walked over to the window, pausing momentarily, afraid to open it and see nothing but the clear dark skies.  
  
She placed her hands on the window and slowly pushed it up and open, as a cool breeze entered her room, making her locks flow in the wind, and forcing her to hug herself for warmth. She looked up into the sky, but saw nothing, "Foolish girl" she told herself as she placed her hands on the window to pull it closed.  
  
"Wendy!" exclaimed a voice from the ground below her window.  
  
"Peter?" she said without thinking before looking down.  
  
"Peter?! " exclaimed the voice as Wendy finally saw who had made the noise that stirred her in her sleep.  
  
"Charles!" she said surprised. "What ever are you doing here? It's quite late at night...'Tis not proper!" she said, half disappointed it was not the golden boy of her dreams, half pleased to see who it really was.  
  
"I know...I know...but...I didn't get a chance to speak to you much at the party...and ...if I didn't do this now...I'd probably lose the courage later...when I'm in my full senses." He said as he stood right below her window, gazing up at her with one hand behind his back.  
  
"What are you going on about, Charles?" she said as she tightened the knot on her robe. "You'll catch your death out there....go home...you can come by tomorrow and tell me what you think is so urgent!"  
  
"Yes...I will come back tomorrow...if you allow me ... once I've finished saying what I need to say..." he said, as snow began to fall.  
  
"Charles! It's snowing! You..."  
  
"Wendy...I love you!" he yelled, cutting her off.  
  
Wendy gasped as she remained baffled. "You what?!"  
  
Charles smiled, as if he was relieved to finally say those words and repeated them with much more ease. "I love you...since the moment I saw you...call it love at first sight if you may... call me insane, if you'd like...but I do!"  
  
She stuttered, unsure of what to say. "I think the cold has gotten to you..." she said as she shook her head.  
  
"No...Wendy...I do...since that day you were at the park with your brothers. When you were telling them a story as they acted it out, and you joining in on the play every so often." He said as he smiled gently while recalling the whole scene. "Such a spirit...so free and loving...caring...and inviting...no one could ever compare to you...and I've been afraid to tell you...for I know you do not feel the same way at all...but I couldn't just keep it quite forever!"  
  
"Charles...." She said, but stopped as she had no words to continue with.  
  
"Wendy...please...although I know you don't know me at all...please allow me the honor of escorting you to the masquerade...and perhaps you will get to know me...and I will at least spend some time by your side."  
  
"The masque is months away!"  
  
"Yes...I know...but I could not chance another to ask before I!"  
  
"Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked with a hint of a smile on the right hand corner of her lips.  
  
"Yes" he said, feeling relief as he noted the soft change in her tone and the smile that began to form.  
  
She smiled completely and looked down at him, bewildered by the whole ordeal, yet ever so enticed by his romantic actions.  
  
"Is that a yes?" he asked as he could not help but smile wildly in return.  
  
"Depends...you must come by tomorrow...and properly ask...will you?"  
  
"Of course..."  
  
"Then until tomorrow...now please...go home before you catch your death!" she pleaded.  
  
"Whatever you say, fair Wendy." He bowed to her and brought out his hand from behind his back, revealing a single long stem rose as white as the falling snow. Wendy gasped as she noted the flower, and he threw it up as softly as he could, aiming perfectly for the window sill.  
  
"'Tis my promise to you...that I will return tomorrow...as you request..." he said as Wendy picked up the rose and held it to her nose, breathing in its sweet scent. She removed one petal and extended her hand, releasing it to drift down, dancing with the snow flakes as it reached his extended hand.  
  
"And this is my promise...to you...that I will be waiting for your return." She said as she closed the window and returned to bed.

* * *

"Well men...what are we to do about this one?" asked Slightly as he marched in front of the chalkboard, looking around to all the boys.  
  
"Nothing" answered John as he looked up from his composition book.  
  
"Nothing?" asked Nibbs.  
  
"Yes...nothing...this one is different than the rest..." he replied, looking defiantly at Slightly and Nibbs.  
  
"He's right" added Tootles. "Aunt Millicent is not forcing him on Wendy...I think she might actually like him."  
  
"Yeah...she gets a goofy look on her face whenever anybody mentions his name" said Erin as he looked up from his sketch book.  
  
"I think the goofy look is called 'llloooovvvvveeeee'" said Eric as he batted his eyes lashes and looked up at the ceiling with a silly look on his face.  
  
Slightly sat down on the rocking chair next to the window as he pondered the events surrounding his appearance. Charles had visited their home, with the sole purpose of asking Mr. Darling for permission to court Wendy, to which Aunt Millicent quickly nodded in excited approval as she stood behind Charles' chair. Michael had chanced walked by the living room and overheard the conversation, so he quickly ran upstairs to the nursery to announce the news, but of course, they were fearful of Aunt Millicent's threats to their very lives if they intervened with one more boy so they refrained from carrying out any of their devious plans.  
  
Mr. Darling agreed to allow him to spend time with Wendy, with a chaperone of course, and so they took strolls in the park, visited the shops on Dolton Drive, and attended all the parties, from which Wendy arrived home, still dancing and humming a soft melody.  
  
"Wendy does seem happy..." sighed Slightly as he looked up at the chalkboard. "What a shame...we were one away from 20 strikes on the board..."  
  
"I must admit" said Nibbs as he looked out the window "I think I like this guy too. He's not at all arrogant like the rest ... flaunting his family's fortune and name in our faces."  
  
"Yeah...he's very polite and nice...and treats Wendy with a lot of respect" added Curly.  
  
"I guess...he's no ordinary boy..." said Slightly as the rest of the boys nodded their heads in approval and continued swapping facts of Charles' good nature. But, although he seemed like a wonderful fellow, something about him still bothered Slightly. Perhaps it was his mass fortune, or the fact that he simply was too perfect...or perhaps...perfect enough for any other girl...but truly not right, for their dear Wendy.

* * *

Once again, he had left the protective arms of his Neverland, to stand vigil outside her window, a habit he had acquired since the day he had found her thimble...or kiss...whatever it was called.  
  
He usually arrived around eleven, at which time she was usually in bed, pleasantly resting and drifting in dreams. Sometimes, like tonight, if she lay on her left side, he could see her lovely face, with her soft and inviting lips forming a gentle smile, perhaps derived from her dream.  
  
"What could she be dreaming of?" he asked himself as he watched her every breath.  
  
_'Perhaps...she thinks of Neverland...of flying ...of me...'_  
  
"The fair Wendy..." whispered a mocking voice "the window is closed...she can't hear you...she can't see you...she's forgotten all about you..." echoed each phrase above the one before it.  
  
"No..." he whispered as he desperately tried to shush the voice. "She does remember me...her stories....they are...about me....about us....about...our thimble..."  
  
_"About her letting go of you, Pan...about you staying young...and incomplete...while she moves on...away from you..."  
_  
"No" he whispered, "It's not true", and shook his head as he continued to look upon her.  
  
_"Think about it, boy...look at her...look how old she has gotten"_  
  
"She has not aged much..." he said mostly to reassure himself.  
  
_"...years have surely past...and I see no acorn around her neck..."_  
  
"She probably keeps it safe in her jewelry box"  
  
_"No...it's not there, foolish boy...she lost it...a long time ago..."_  
  
"You lie!" he said out loud.  
  
_"Oh...and look...fresh roses on her nightstand...from the one that has taken your place..."_  
  
"NO!" he said as he punched around widely in the air, trying to strike the voice away from torturing his already pained heart.  
  
_"Ha ha ha ha!!!!"_ laughed the voice as it slowly slithered into silence.  
  
Peter seized his insane strikes into the air, resting his arms to his side as he leaned up against the wall, breathing in heavily and holding back sobs.  
  
"Wendy...you can't forget me...you've promised it would always belong to me..."


	7. A Double Edged Slash

**Author's Note:**  
  
Just to let you know...most of this chapter is background information on two of the new lost boys, cause I couldn't just make up characters without explaining who they were...if you are of the kind that doesn't care for OC's than I suggest you skip the first part of the chapter...although Heath's thoughts do somewhat lay out what is going on in Peter's mind, although you could probably figure it out from the earlier chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 7: A Double Edged Slash**  
  
Heath sat perched on top a high tree branch, his back resting against the trunk, as he stared up into the gloomy skies, searching amongst the gray clouds for even the tiniest slither of golden sunlight, but there was none in sight._ 'Where does Peter goes all the time?...He surely doesn't bring any new lost boys on every one of his trips...' _He wondered about Peter's disappearances, for he usually left every five days or so, staying out two whole days and concurrent nights, half the time of which was most likely spent in travel. Of course, he was not one to question his leader, for after all, he had much to be grateful to Pan for.  
  
Before Peter Pan came to his window, he had lived such a distressing life. His parents had succumbed to a wave of influenza when he was only 4 years old, and having no other family but a drunken uncle who'd refused to take him in, he was sent to Olson's Street Orphanage, an institution so lacking in funding that they could only keep their doors open if the children and nuns did most of their own cooking, repairs, and maintenance, working as dress makers and such other odd jobs to bring in the little money they could. Days of unending chores that bled into nights filled with darkness and cold, as he slept in a dank room with ten other boys in an equally dire situation. But at least those boys never stayed for long, for they were young enough to be adopted soon enough by couples looking for younger children. Heath was nearly 13 himself, one of the oldest of the orphans and perhaps he would have been adopted when he was younger, had any of the prospective parents not flinched away from him once they knew of how he had become orphaned, as if he himself was a leper to be avoided at all costs. He'd seen so many children come and go, never really forming friendships with any of them, until Juni arrived.  
  
His life had not been any better then his own. He never knew of his mother and his father deserted him one day in Kensington Gardens, where he waited for his promised return until quite late into the dark and snowing night, when a police officer finally brought the near frozen child into the station. He was actually placed in Turner Home for Boys in Wilshire, a city two towns away, but after a similar wave of influenza claimed the life of 3 boys, all the seemingly healthy children were scattered to other orphanages, and so, Juni was sent to Olson's Street. But above all the sadness in his life, Juni had managed to maintain a sunny nature, brightening up Heath's more hardened disposition, which made Juni a necessity in Heath's life, while he in turn watched over Juni like a protective older brother, although he was only a few months his elder.  
  
When Peter Pan came knocking on his window, Juni had been sent away to the hospital, in quarantine, after one of the nuns heard him coughing while he was scrubbing the kitchen floor. He had urged Peter to come back once Juni returned, but he told him that his memory was not the best, and he'd most likely forget, so Peter promised to come back for him later. He, of course, kept his word...and forgot, and Heath tried to remind him by bringing him up in normal conversation, saying things like, "I bet Juni would have loved to see the fairies dance."  
  
Fairy dance...another odd thing that bothered Heath. Once, as they glided above the island near dusk, the boys noted the fey gathering and so Peter led them to the Fairy Tree, showing them their enchanting social gathering, where the pixies danced, drank and simply had a merry time. It had seemed like such a pleasant sight, but Peter grew distant and distraught as he smiled slightly and starred absently into the golden tree, as if, he was recalling a fond memory...or... perhaps a heartbreaking one.  
  
At times like those, Peter seemed so very old. Sure, he was only a boy, but how many years he'd lived, no one could be sure, and Heath could only imagine that he'd lived through things that only a thousand life times could compare. He skipped around, and danced merrily, laughing and poking fun at all, just like any care-free boy, but he had a darker side, or rather, a deeper one. Behind that impish smile and mischievous gleam to the right of the green of his eye, Heath could see, turmoil of memories long suppressed. Memories that perhaps, even Pan, did not know existed, but still could feel. He was definitely older then he thought he was, and Heath had noticed that his body was catching up with his soul, although he was sure, Peter did not.  
  
But, lately, it seemed, Peter was becoming more aware of the depth within himself. He took to himself a little more, saying he was just tired and needed fresh air or a small nap, and when Heath would go to check on him, he swore he'd see him clutching the thimble in his hand as the wind carried the word that he uttered under his breath, "Wendy".  
  
_'A girl'_, Heath thought as he recalled that it was the same name he said the day they uncovered the thimble, when no one's call for him to answer would receive any reaction from his part. He had seemed as if he was in a trance, as his breathing quickened and then suddenly seized, only to begin again at an alarming rate. It wasn't fear what showed in his face, but rather the force of a wave of thoughts and memories, recollections and revelations that dumbfounded his mind, fully holding all his senses.  
  
Could it be that Pan, the eternal boy, had actually fallen for a girl? But to fall, for someone, was not child-like. Sure, Heath had felt a whimsy attraction for a girl or two in his short life, but it wasn't as consuming as he noticed it was in Peter. He'd like a girl, smile stupidly and feel a tinting in his cheeks whenever she was around or her name was spoken, but that was not the case with Peter. He behaved as an adult in love would, trudging night and day because he was separated from his beloved, missing sleep and cherishing trinkets of affection.  
  
That made sense, for from what he had gathered from his stay, and what he was told by the fey, Peter was bonded to the very essence of the Neverland. It mourned when he was away, casting the days with gloomy clouds, freezing the cool waters, and retracting the blossoms of spring. It rejoiced on his return, shinning sun light all over the land, thawing out its waters and precious greens and blooming sweet scents of lilacs and daffodils. The land was Pan and Pan was the land, and lately, the land's nights were longer with an aura of romance lingering in the air. The land new...that Peter Pan, the forever boy...was becoming a man!  
  
Heath lost his balance on the branch, waving his hands wildly in the air as he almost tumbled to the ground. "Peter ... is ... growing up?!" he exclaimed into the silence of the forest. No...it could not be...that was wrong...it had to be! He collected himself as he fixed his position on the branch, leaning forward away from the trunk, staring up into the sky again. 'No...I'm wrong...' he thought, but he knew he wasn't. But Peter most likely had not realized it, and who was he to tell him? No...He'd keep quiet...and hope...that it was all a mistake made on his part.  
  
Still swirling in his thoughts, he was suddenly alarmed by a loud rumble from the nearby frozen waterfall, as the ice that had frozen on its descent cracked and flowing liquid once again began. He looked to the sky and noted the sunshine gleaming through the parting clouds and so he lifted into the air, looking around for Peter Pan. As he squinted his eyes to force his vision into the distance, two arms quickly wrapped around his own arms and chest, pushing him forward and toward the ground.  
  
Heath smiled as he somersaulted in the air, locking his ankles around the boy's legs and pulling them forward. Peter laughed as his grip loosened and he spinned below and forward, before Heath.  
  
"Ha ha ha" he chuckled as he clutched his stomach. "Bet you I scared you!"  
  
"Not at all, Pan! I knew you were coming! I heard you a mile away!" Heath fibbed.  
  
Peter chuckled a bit more, before he regained his composure and suddenly looked vexed. "Hey...what are you doing out here by yourself?"  
  
"Oh..." said Heath as he suddenly recalled the reason for his vigil. "I wanted to catch you as you returned, before you scurried off on another adventure." He moved towards Pan, taking hold of his arm as he pulled him forward with him. "Princess Tigerlili is at home...she's been waiting for you for hours...and it seems important!" he said as he hurried back to the tree house.

* * *

"Peter" said Tigerlili, relieved to finally see him return. She had passed the time by showing Tweed, the youngest of the boys, how to properly shoot an arrow, the evidence of which, was all over the right wall.  
  
Peter smiled as he flew out the tunnel and towards her, landing on the ground and placing one hand behind his back, and extending the other one in a gentleman's bow. "Your highness" he said playfully.  
  
"No...I come not in game..." she said as her tone and expression showed the severity of her visit and that something was obviously causing her great discomfort.  
  
Peter stood up right, his every playful thought purged as ideas of a good old Indian-lost boy war game quickly vanished from his mind. "What's wrong?" he asked with extreme curiosity.  
  
She inched closer and said "You must come immediately...we fear the worst."

* * *

"There..." she said as Peter held her in his arms and they flew above a shallow pool through the humid cave. "...Morningmist was playing above ground with other children from the village, when the ground suddenly crumbled below him, dropping him into the water.  
  
Peter sniffed the air as a pungent odor attacked his nostrils, making him flinch and nearly gag in disgust. "What is that foul smell?" he asked as he grimaced and looked around for the source of the offensive odor.  
  
Tigerlili placed a hand on her mouth and nose as she pointed with the other one forward, into a deeper segment of the cave. Peter moved his gaze from her face, down her arm, and towards the area her finger was pointing at. He landed on the ground and let her down before he moved in closer, slowly placing one foot before the other, feeling them sink into the murky sand. There was a bulge lying within the cave, but it was so dark, that he could not make out what the figure was. He turned to Tinkerbell and extended his arm to wave for her to come in closer and light the darkness so he may see. She obediently did so, as she moved from her spot on Tigerlili's shoulder, slowly revealing the dreadful sight. There, lying still was the croc, its carcass half decomposed, rotted and withering away, with maggots and worms crawling in and out of the crevices of its blackened and exposed flesh, with its jaw open wide, as if it hollered a piercing cry as it died. 

Peter exhaled as he shuttered slightly and continued his walk towards the croc. The foul stench only increased as he circled it, noting that its eyes had shriveled away long ago, and came around to its belly, where he huffed before kneeling down for a closer inspection.  
  
"It's a slash" said Tigerlili as she crouched down next to Peter. "...something gutted it alive..."  
  
"Yes" said Peter as he puffed his chest and sneered at the grotesque wound "...something carved itself a nice little escape from its belly, and it was done...with a double edged hook."


	8. Kidnapped at the Masquerade!

**Author's Note**  
  
**September 8:** Chapter revised for grammar and punctuation. Slight content alterations. This is the turning point in the story, where we shift from simple fluff to the action/adventure, so it needed to be a little more than the rest of the story. If you dislike too much description, please excuse it.

**A big thank you to Amyfushigiyugi, who helped me out by adding her own spice to this chapter. Thanx!!!!

* * *

**

**Chapter 8: Kidnapped at the Masquerade!**  
  
_'No',_ she stared intently at the dark figure standing just a few feet before her, his blue eyes piercing through the black sash mask. Her breath seized in her chest, and her own eyes quivered with disbelief. It could not be; and yet, somehow it was. The sinister figure that had haunted her stories, and most of her dreams. The nightmare with the glaring blue eyes and air of darkness itself, that had deceived her dream self into betraying Peter Pan, and almost done them all in. It could not be that he had escaped from the jaws of the beast! It could not be that he had escaped the confines of her dreams! It simply could not be!  
  
"Wendy?" Charles asked when she suddenly pushed back towards him. Had he not quickly wrapped his hands around her arms, she would have surely stumbled back and unto the floor. It was as if she beheld a ghost, for even the warmth from her flesh slowly left her. "What is wrong?" He pleaded her to answer. "Speak to me..."  
  
She heard him, but could not respond, for her voice fled from her, leaving her mute and completely frozen. It was impossible, and yet there he stood. His attire was different, for here in the wakeful world, he wore a black coat with silver trim and embroidery, a bulky black hat with one extremely long silver feather and no hook at all, but two hands. She gawked with fear as he searched the room, and finally rested his stare upon her. He smiled to himself, pleased to have found her, and began to close the distance between them.  
  
She would have fled, if her feet would listen to her urging silent cries, but they did not, and therefore, she remained, paralyzed with fright; able only to listen to Charles's quiet panicked inquiries as to her state. She had nothing to do, but watch him as he stepped closer, with each thud of his boots echoing above all chatter of the guests. He slithered closer, and he smiled wider, until he finally stood before her, just inches away. All color instantly left Wendy's face, as she paled at the sight of him up close and as real as she was.  
  
"Good Evening Charles," he said as he turned and lightly bowed his head towards the young man.  
  
"Good evening, sir" Charles replied and bowed his head, with his hands still clasped around Wendy's arms.

"Wendy...honey, you look simply lovely, just like a pixie would look if she was real and full size!" Hook said as he smiled sweetly at Wendy as if it was a totally rational thing to say to ones enemy, then turned his eyes to Charles. "You look very dashing. Your costume is quite befitting of you! But now...both of you tell me...how do I look?" he asked as he turned about, allowing them full view of his attire.  
  
His voice was not harsh and entrancing as she remembered, but rather warm and inviting. His eyes were also different, as no trace of red could be seen within the blue. Her body slowly relaxed as her voice returned, allowing her to finally speak.  
  
"You look quite fearsome, Mr. Darling" Charles replied.  
  
"Father?" she asked still doubtful, and felt Charles' hold on her relax.  
  
"Yes?" he asked with his arms out to his side, still waiting for her comments on his costume.  
  
Her chest heaved in subtle gasps that gently slowed into controlled breathing as her mind spiraled through the chaos of her night's dreams. "You...look wonderful" she finally managed to continue as her quivering heart gave out a sigh and the warm smile returned to her face. "...such like a real pirate."  
  
"Thank you, darling" he said and bent down to place a tender kiss upon her forehead. Wendy closed her eyes and smiled wider as her father's lips tickled her skin. She rather enjoyed the man he had become since their family had expanded by six. He no longer was the cold and calculating patriarch, but rather, warm and ever so gentle towards all, in particular with her. It seemed somewhat odd that such a change had come about abruptly four years ago, but she reasoned it was due to the arrival of her newest brothers. After all, she had always heard that bigger families were happiest. 

"Well...I'll let you two be...please, enjoy the rest of the Masque!" he said as he bowed his head to Charles and then disappeared back into the crowd.  
  
"Wendy" Charles said as he turned back to her and offered his arm again. "You truly frightened me. I thought you were having some kind of anxiety spell!"  
  
"I am terribly sorry." She said as she looked up into his cobalt blue eyes, slightly embarrassed. "I just had a momentary relapse of a nightmare that has plagued me for years." But it was not truly a nightmare, for always Peter Pan had saved her just as Hook had pushed her off the plank, catching her in his protective arms inches away from the water's deadly grip.  
  
"A nightmare?" Charles repeated pensively as he gently led her unto the dance floor. "Well, no need to worry about such horrors, for I can assure you, you are wide awake, my rose." He turned to face her and placed one gentle hand upon her waist and the other held up in the air awaiting hers. "And I would never let anything harm you."  
  
At that moment, nothing else mattered. Her dreams and nightmares were still about, but just looking into the handsome boys loving eyes, she felt safe and protected, and happier than she thought she could ever be while awake. She curtsied and placed her hand in his, allowing his other hand to travel lightly around her waist, and slowly, they began to glide in motion to the soft melody from the band.

"Your father was right." He said as he twirled her about his arms. "You are simply too lovely tonight." He quickly glanced an admiring eye down Wendy's flowing gown. The costume she had picked out certainly flattered her sparkling eyes and porcelain skin. It was a dress she'd seen in her dreams, of an enchanting dance of the Fay, where the most stunning of the gorgeous fairies wore a weightless gown which draped in many layers of gleaming white veils, and hung lose from her waist down below her floating body. She had insisted on recreating the whole dress, adding on the details herself when the dressmaker could not comprehend the fantasy of her dream. Her identity was concealed by the glittering white mask that perfectly matched the texture of the dress, with a silver trim that extended into soft silver white feathers, enhancing the crystal gleam in her truest blue eyes. Her hair was pulled up in flowing curls with tiny forget-me-nots placed elegantly around shining locks, giving her a truly magical look befitting of the Fairy Queen herself. She was the loveliest creature in the entire room.  
  
Wendy smiled. "Thank you, Charles, you look quite enchanting yourself", she said as she glanced at his own costume. His attire was that of an Admiral's from the days of the British settlements in the Caribbean, complete with the navy blue coat with tails and white pantaloons with knee high buckle boots. He wore a silver and blue mask that covered from the tip of his perfect roman nose to the middle of his forehead, revealing only his entrancing blue eyes – the feature that most ladies agreed was the most enticing - which only rested on Wendy.  
  
They waltz to the melody, and Charles spun his lovely fairy, reveling in her wickedly joyous smile, for he enjoyed watching Wendy's eyes sparkle behind the mask and her full cherry lips blooming into a smile that could only belong to her. He allowed himself to fancy that it was he who inspired that smile and it was for he whom her eyes sparkled; but it was not so, for truly there was no other who Wendy smiled for while eyes open, but her truest sparkle would always belong to the golden boy of her dreams. 

Such a fool she felt, for keeping such a sentiment for a dream, and it was her deepest secret; one she kept locked away in the darkest chamber of her heart while the sun gleamed in the sky. But once the sun would bow to the moon, and its silver would touch the stain glass of her window, she allowed herself to drift in the forests of her true desires and fall into the arms of her dream lover.

Of course, he was not real, and she knew he was not. But even if the dream was just that, a dream, reality was not too bland itself. For here, in true flesh and bone, stood a wonderful man, who treated her like a fairy queen since the very day he first spoke her name. Perhaps she would never outgrow that childhood dream, but for a while since he had come into her life, she was happiest than she had been in quite a while. She looked upon Charles, and although the room thrived with many chattering and bustling bodies, she felt as if it was just the two of them, floating upon sweet milky clouds.

But their solitude did not last for long, for she suddenly found the white walls and silk drapes of the opulent room melting away into tall evergreens and plush shrubbery. The candles lit all around the room formed orbs of twinkling lights, dancing around her and her companion, whose gentle smile slowly slipped into a mischievous grin, and his blue eyes swirled until fully green with a twinkle to the right of each. Wendy's heart began to stir as his perfectly combed ebony hair began to curl in unruly golden locks, and she would have gasped with her dream's name escaping her lips if it were not for the most horrid chill that crashed upon the illusion, disbanding it into shattered gems of green and gold.  
  
Charles quickly wrapped his arms around Wendy, pulling her in towards his body and shielding her from the cold blast that smashed through the windows, opening them as the wood and glass crashed against the walls and the drapes drifted in the pounding wind, blowing out the candles' flames and leaving the entire ball room in utter darkness.  
  
All in the room took similar cover as they looked around, bewildered by the sudden gust of violent wind. An eerie shiver slithered down Wendy's spine, as if the wind came from the gloom of a graveyard. A sinister laugh echoed in the darkened room, frightening all the party goers and causing a muffled gasp to slip through Wendy's lips as her chest heaved in forced breath. The shiver clutched at her throat as she realized she knew the horrific laugh. "Hook..." she whispered in quivering fear.  
  
A flash of thunder lit the room as dark figures of gruff men jumped in through the open windows, hollering and scattering around the room. Following them, was the most threatening form of them all.  
  
"No..." Wendy whispered to her pounding heart, shutting her eyes at the sight of the tall sinister figure, whose piercing blue eyes shinned through the dark. "No..." she repeated, vainly reassuring herself that nothing of this was real. A silent cry to wake up from her newest nightmare ran through her thoughts, for that was all this had to be; another nightmare. '_Peter Pan' _she called out for her hero. '_...this is where you come and chase the dark away!' _But she could feel Charles' hold around her tightening, and she could hear his heart pounding stronger and faster against her right cheek as it remained pressed against his chest. This was no dream, but truly reality. And Captain Hook was truly there, returned from the bowels of hell.  
  
Mr. Smee came up behind Hook, carrying a torch that lit his face with an eerie orange glow, which heightened the shadows that haunted his stern features.

"Sorry for the intrusion" Hook said with a sinister smile spread about his lips. "I seem to have lost my invitation in the mail." He snickered maniacally and tipped his hat, slowly traveling his gaze around the room. "But do not worry. I will be on my way, as soon as my dear old friend, Wendy Darling, comes forward and accompanies me back to my ship..."

With that, his men dashed by all the women, ripping off their masks and staring carefully at all their faces. Groaning and snarling as they found not what they sought.  
  
Charles gasped at the sound of Wendy's name, and pushed her behind him, trying to conceal her from the Pirates search. Nothing made sense to him, not the odd intrusion and not the dramatic reply of nature and the night to the lunatic before them all. Who was this crazed loon that dressed as a child's story book villain? Why had he come in search of Wendy? Fine, such answers would not be found at the moment, so all he had to be concerned with, was keeping Wendy away from all harm.  
  
Mary Darling's breathing seized as she tightened her hold on George's hand. The rogues had come for their daughter, and memories of the night they had barged into their nursery and saw nothing but the chilling sight of empty beds and an open window crashed through the cobwebs of the hidden corners of her mind. The fears of not knowing whether they'd ever see them again, and although their children had returned unharmed, she could not bear to remember that questions were never answered. Never had they known what had transpired or where they had been, for the children themselves had been so scared that their minds had created a mystical story of their absence to trudge on through their days and sleep during their nights. Her eyes widened and her lips trembled as she realized that this man, standing just feet before her, might possibly have been the culprit. A heat of rage slowly grew and she slowly turned her gaze away from the pirate, trying to hide the object of her eye's search, Wendy. Her vision loomed about, when she suddenly let out a gasp, for a pale pirate dressed in all black rags and a tiny scar on his lower lip, stalled next to her, glaring intently at her face. He inched his eyes closer to her and she flinched as he quickly tore her mask away.  
  
"Cap'n, this one bares a resemblance to the lass!" he hollered as he aimed to grab her arm, but was quickly pushed aside by a blow from George.  
  
"You don't dare touch my wife!" Mr. Darling squared his shoulders and said with an odd fierceness in his tone.  
  
Hook turned towards Mary, searching in his mind for a clear image of the girl, recalling her golden locks and azure eyes. He walked towards her and George quickly pushed her behind him, mustering all the courage he could from his wife's hand, which he was squeezing with all his might. "You want Mary, you must go through me!" Mr. Darling shouted as he puffed his chest and gazed intensely into the pirates' mocking eyes. When it came down to protecting one whom he loved, then he would not back down, no matter the cost.  
  
Hook marched towards them, scrutinizing every aspect of her being, and noting the similar golden bronze hair and full lips as the girl, but he was not so easily fooled, for he knew that she was obviously not the same. His inspection turned towards the oddly familiar man, standing before Mary, and his head tilted slightly to the side and his right eyebrow raised as he puzzled as to who the man reminded him of. "You both do bare similarities to my prey..." Hook said with a slither in his talk. "But she is not her...tell me... by chance you be her parents?"  
  
George forced his gaze to remain on the malicious man, fearful to even blink lest the pirate strike at them with his iron hook for a hand. "Yes...and I can assure you...you will not come anywhere near my daughter!" He was proud to hear his voice sound stern, rather than strangled as he had feared it would.  
  
"It was you who kidnapped my children years ago, wasn't it?!?" Mary cried as she could no longer subdue the burning rage.  
  
Hook snickered momentarily, looking around at his pirates, who followed him in similar mocking chuckles. He turned around the room, quickly searching for Wendy, for he realized that her parents knew nothing of their stay in Neverland, and that perhaps, Wendy had forgotten as well. After all, reality would beckon such memories to be turned into mere fleeting dreams. He snapped his fingers and Bill Jukes and Starky quickly grabbed George, thrusting him to the side and exposing Mary as she held hear arms out for her husband.  
  
"No...let him go!" she cried desperately as the crowed gasped and Aunt Millicent made her way to Mary. But she did not reach her in time. Hook quickly snagged her by the arm, and pulled her back firmly to his chest, bending her arm up between them and thrusting his hook to her neck.  
  
"Wendy!!!" Hook threatened. The terrified crowd parted as he made his way to the center of the room with Smee trailing behind him. "Remember me or not, girl! ... I have your mother! ... I WILL slit her throat!" He tugged the cool steel tighter to her skin, forcing a stifled gasp out through her lips, and causing his own lips to curl up at the ends in a sinister smile. "Come forward or her blood will be on your hands!"  
  
Mary gasped in horror and Aunt Millicent and George cried out her name in fright. He still struggled in the pirates' hold, confused and vulnerable, unable to reach his wife. Some of the men in the crowd motioned to strike at Hook, only to be met by the pirates' swords threatening to their chests.  
  
"NO!" Wendy shouted and pushed her way past Charles. She thought not of her own safety, and all questions as to reality and fantasy quickly diminished as she found her mother and father at the edge of the pirates' steel.  
  
"NO! Wendy!!" Charles stretched his hand out to clasp Wendy's, but she was too swift and, well beyond his reach, running away from his protection and towards the horrid man that held her mother. Without another thought, he trailed her as she pushed her way through the crowd, never quite catching up to her until she stopped and stood just a few feet before Hook. Charles glared at the sinister man, over Wendy's shoulder, as if daring him to do so much as touch her.  
  
"I am here Captain!" Wendy called out as she tore the mask from her face, throwing it down to the floor. "And I do remember your dishonorable ways!" She glared at Hook with a concoction of anger and fright swirling in her gleaming eyes. "Release my mother and father AT ONCE!" she shouted valiantly.  
  
"Wendy..." Hook whispered to himself, as if _she_ was the ghost that had returned to him. His gaze slowly traveled up and down her body, stalling in the gentle swaying of her curves that signaled her descent from childhood. "You are surely maturing quite nicely my dear...but still" His eyes returned to Wendy's, both sets blue, yet hers was a striking gleam of sapphire and his, an oddly twinkling opaque. "Not many years have passed since we last met, have they?"  
  
She swallowed down her drying throat and shook her head in light disbelief. "How could you still be alive?" Wendy asked in a forced whisper traced with defiance, all the while narrowing her gaze.  
  
Hook's eyes had not yet taken in enough of the lovely young women who stood before him, but he quickly regained his composure and chuckled once as he bowed his head. "That...is truly...the importance of it all...and you will know in due time." He turned his eyes to look into her terrified mother's face and breathed his words unto her cheek, causing her skin to crawl at the feel of its warmth. "Mrs. Darling...you truly have a brave little daughter" he said with his lips all but touching her skin. He then bellowed for Mason, and the man came running to his side. "Fetch Miss Darling...and escort her to the ship..."  
  
"NO!!!" Mary and George cried as they struggled in their captors' hold.  
  
Charles quickly drew his sword as the pirate loomed closer to Wendy, following his Captain's orders. "Step back, or I'll be forced to slice you from naval to chin!" he threatened as he held on to Wendy's hand and placed one foot in front of her, forcing his body forward and tugging her lightly behind him.  
  
Mason glared and thrust his own sword up to greet Charles' blade, waiting for Hook's word. The Captain chuckled in something between amusement and irritation as he noted the boy's eagerness to defend Wendy, and the tender way in which he quickly took hold of her hand, with her returning the caress. "Well...well...well..." he taunted as Mary continued to squirm within his arms. "Treachery, thy name is women." He grinned. "Wendy...no longer, Pan's Wendy?"  
  
Wendy gasped at the name that Hook called out. Surely, she had managed to reconcile Hook and his pirates with reality, but with all such fright, she had not yet pieced together the most stunning thought of all. Michael and the twins had been right all along! If Hook was as real as the cold steal that he clasped to her mother's throat, then Peter Pan, the golden boy of her dreams, hero of her stories and lover of her fantasies, was real as well ... and the visions she saw every night, were not just the makings of the imagination of a child. No, it was all a memory...of the grandest adventure of all!  
  
"Who be you, boy?" Hook questioned as Mary continued to struggle in his arms.  
  
Charles sneered at Hook, careful to not release Mason from his sight. "Charles Terwood...a name you will come to fear if you insist on laying your filthy hand on Wendy or her parents!" He could feel his muscles tense, and flew with the need to rip the man's head off for even contemplating to abduct his Wendy.  
  
Hook gasped as the name the boy recited resonated in the caverns of forgotten days. "Charles Terwood?" he asked as he scrutinized the boy from head to toe. His eyes widened and he let out an excited gasp and grin. "Of course..." he whispered. The grin grew into a wicked smile and he chuckled malevolently. "My!" he hollered. "How things do develop! To betray Pan is one thing" he said as he looked to Wendy, "...but to do so with his most trusted ally is a whole other cruel torture that I could never impart of my own accord!"  
  
Wendy glared at Hook from behind Charles' shoulder, with contempt and incredulity in her azure eyes. "What do you ramble about?"  
  
Hook sneered, contemplating the deliciousness of breaking the news of it all to Peter Pan; imagining him, broken and whimpering on the ground, as he forces Wendy to tell him of her fleeting heart. It was just all too perfect, as the final strike to Peter's will would be telling him the name of he who took his place. His very own second in command, Slightly. He snickered, and almost laughed, but grew eager to return with this revelation to Neverland. "Enough of this!" He cried out. "Men...take her now!"  
  
The pirates rushed to Wendy, but Charles quickly thrust her completely behind him and swung his sword in the air menacingly, ready to strike at them all. Captain Nestor, and those of his regiment that had also attended the festivities, quickly took heed to Charles' need for aid, and drew their own swords and rushed to ambush the pirates.  
  
The sounds of metal clashing against metal engulfed the room, as Wendy felt a hand reaching around her arm and pull her away from the struggle. She hollered at first, but noted it was Sir Terwood who yanked her away towards safety, fearful that his son would not fight with his full attention if she was still in danger's way. Three other men – most likely Sir Terwood's associates - rushed to take her out through the doors, but halted at the oak entrance, for they soon found that no amount of shoulder power against the wood would open their only escape. Something quite heavy was obstructing the doors from the other side, sealing them all inside. The women dashed to the side of the room, knowing very well to stay out of the way lest any more of them should be captured. They watched as their sons and husbands, fathers and brothers fought bravely with whatever they had, be it even their bare hands.  
  
One soldier - who had managed to subdue his opponent with a strike from his elbow to the back of his neck - rushed to George's aid, pointing his revolver at the two snarling pirates, "Release him!" he ordered. The two simply glared, but the soldier cocked his weapon, alerting them that he meant to fire if not obeyed. They hesitantly released George, who quickly turned about and punched Bill Jukes in the belly, making him keel over in pain while the soldier landed a similar blow onto Starky's jaw.

George grimaced and shook his right hand, but quickly forgot his pain and he and the soldier rushed to Hook, who still held Mary in his grasp and sneered as the soldier once again aimed his weapon, threatening to fire. He had no desire to fall by a bullet, and so with no alternative, he launched Mary to the ground with a violent thrust, which served to startle the two men. He reached for his own riffle, which lay concealed in his coat, and fired with a swiftness beyond the soldier's reflexes. George instinctually threw himself unto Mary, shielding her from the blast, but the soldier's dash was not quick enough to dodge the bullet, and it penetrated his right arm.  
  
He tumbled unto the floor, holding his bleeding arm and looked up in fearful fury at Hook, who glared as he raised his hook into the air, ready to spill even more of the soldier's blood, but he stalled as the faint sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. Hook swiftly realized he had little time to flee before the cavalry arrived. He turned a quick eye to Wendy, and noted that his prey was well beyond his reach, fully shielded by even more men.

'_Bloody Hell!'_ he thought, but he caught sight of Charles as the lad fought off his men. He huffed as a quick correction to his plan was made. "Yelmen! Bring the net!"  
  
Charles was too consumed in the battle to notice Hook sneaking up behind him, until it was too late and the heavy net had fallen over him, followed by a pull that flung him to the ground onto his stomach. He wrestled to turn onto his back in an effort to cut his way out, but halted as he noticed Hook's revolver pointing down at him.  
  
"You might have saved her," Hook said as he glared down upon him. "But you will not be so lucky, boy!" He lightly tugged at the trigger, threatening to fire.  
  
Charles sneered at his captor, careful to mask the fear for his own life. He would now find himself in unthinkable danger, but at least it was he and not Wendy. He gladly took her place.  
  
Wendy felt suffocated by so many hovering bodies surrounding her, and struggled to catch sight of her parents and Charles. Finally a pocket at the angle of the neck and shoulder of one of her protectors surfaced, and Wendy saw Charles within a net on the floor, and two pirates hoisting him up as Hook pointed at him with a revolver. "Charles!!!"  
  
"Retreat!!!" Hook hollered, and the pirates ran from their opponents and rushed out the windows. He turned to the frightened crowd, as the two holding Charles returned into the darkness of the night from which they appeared.

"I bid goodnight to you all" Hook said gallantly as he removed his hat and bowed in mocking polite. "Please... enjoy the rest of your splendid evening!" A rope almost invisible in the dark behind him fell. He turned to look at Wendy, her lovely eyes wide with horror. "And to you Miss Darling ... I trust I will see you again soon..." he said and chuckled as he replaced the hat on his head and grabbed hold of the rope, at which second it quickly hoisted him up and out of sight.  
  
The police finally managed to barge in through the doors, removing the huge log that had been placed outside it, and came in yelling for all to remain still, missing the pirates by a second.  
  
"Charles!!!" Mrs. Terwood yelled as she rushed to the window, with Wendy and others trailing behind her. But there was nothing in sight, other than a far away unintelligible object, flying amongst the stormy clouds towards a far blinking star to the right.


	9. Hook's Prisoner

**

* * *

Chapter 9: Hook's Prisoner  
**  
Finally, Hook would have his revenge. He had wanted nothing more over these few years, than to ambush the boy's hideout and plunge his sword right through his sleeping chest, but although he never lacked the thirst to do so, he lacked the ability. His body had been badly injured by the innards of the croc, as it tried to melt him away, and it took several years for the woman to repair the damage, and truly, he was not whole yet, and most likely never would be.  
  
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, running his hand along his face, noting the scars that had withered away, showing no sign of his near demise. However, as his gaze moved down toward his chest, he growled as he saw the stubborn remnants. His skin had healed, but the burn marks from the stomach acids had eaten away at his flesh so deeply, that they would never truly disappear. Blotches of dry red skin spread all over his torso and half way down his back, as well as around his right arm, to about 3 fingers width above the hook. He cringed as he thought of the boy who had only stood atop of the mast watching him fall into the beast's hungry mouth. He'd vowed to take his vengeance on him, even if he had to return from the depths of hell to do so.  
  
"Cap'n?" Came a voice from behind the door.  
  
Hook breathed in deeply as he locked away his consuming anger and the memory of the boy, and picked up his shirt from the chair to his side. He turned away from the mirror as he pulled it over his head and put his arms through the sleeves. "Come in Mr. Smee" he growled as he buttoned the shirt up and fixed the collar.  
  
Smee entered the room carrying his ring of keys in one hand and a silver tray with a silver chalice containing a clear liquid that glittered golden in the light.  
  
"I have brought you your tonic, Cap'n," he said as he placed the tray down on the wooden table. "And I am also here to inform you, sir that the boy has finally come to."  
  
"Marvelous" Hook cried as he reached his hand out and Smee quickly handed him the chalice. "Does he seem to have any recollection of anything?"  
  
"No, sir. At least, not that we can tell. He hasn't really said much. He's a quiet one, that boy is."  
  
Hook looked at the tonic momentarily, before he breathed in deeply and quickly drank it to the very last drop. The taste was truly horrifying, as bitterness gripped at his tongue as if the very essence of the drink tried to enact vengeance for being turned into the vile tonic.  
  
He handed Smee the chalice as he huffed and tried to hold back the grimace on his face. "I see", he said as he moved back towards the mirror to glimpse at his attire. "Fetch me my coat. It is time to pay our dear old friend a visit."

* * *

Charles slowly opened his eyes, as a throbbing pain in the back of his head impeded his focusing his vision on anything for the first seconds of his consciousness. He frowned at the pain as he slowly sat up, when he suddenly realized that he was surrounded by four wooden walls and no windows. He looked to the door which contained the only opening to the outside, and got up to walk towards it, but was stopped by a pull at his hands. He looked down and was stunned to know that he wore shackles around his wrists. "What the..." his thought was interrupted by a sudden shift in the floor, making him tilt over and almost fall to the ground.  
  
_'Are we in movement?'_ he thought as he took another quick look around, but frowned when he remembered that there were no windows. _'Great, now what have I gotten myself into.'_ He sat back down with his back against the nearest wall and the soles of his boots planted firmly on the ground.  
  
He gasped as the memories of the battle suddenly emerged in his thoughts. "Wendy!" He remained quiet, straining to listen for her voice, for fear that she had also been captured and was being held in another cell; but he heard nothing. He sighed, relieved at the thought that she was most likely safe at home, for the last thing he remembered before being knocked out of consciousness by a blow to the back of his head, was being carried into a ship while all the pirates retreated without her.  
  
_'Wait...I'm on a ship!' _He recalled the large wooden vessel that had hovered above behind the ballroom. A vision he thought his jittery state had dreamt up. But now, looking around, it was obvious that he was within a wooden vessel, and hearing no slush of water, yet feeling the motion, it could easily, yet not rationally, be that they were in the air.  
  
This was all too much for his mind to comprehend, and yet, his mind was still at ease, for at least, she was safe. But what about him? Why had 'Hook' tried to kidnap Wendy? And why had he settled for him instead? The man was obviously under the impression that he was someone else.  
  
"Slightly!" he said as he recalled the Captain's words.  
  
Was that not Wendy's cousins' nickname? Had he mistaken him for that Slightly? Well, it had to be. How many other Slightlys could there be in the world? If that was the case, then he couldn't just tell the man that he had been mistaken, for then, he'd surely return for the real Slightly. No, he had to play his game, for Wendy's sake.  
  
Charles's thoughts were quickly scattered by the jingle of keys from the outside of the door. It slowly creaked open and Hook stepped in as Smee held the door ajar.  
  
"Good Evening" Hook greeted him as he removed his hat. "I trust you had a pleasant nap."  
  
Smee waited by the open door, as Hook stepped forward towards Charles.  
  
"Hook, am I right?" Charles replied with all the apparent indifference he could muster.  
  
"Well, do you remember me now, boy?" Hook asked, pleased to think that some memories had returned to his mind.  
  
"I know nothing of you. Why do you insist that you have met me before?"  
  
"Because we've more than met, boy." He said as he held out his right hand before Charles's eyes. "You were there, the day Pan severed my hand. You laughed when he threw it to that vile beast for snack!"  
  
Charles stared at the hook, entranced by its glare. "I remember nothing of what you speak." He said as he removed his eyes from it and set them on Hook's face. "I have never witnessed such a repulsive scene and I have never been of acquaintance to any 'Pan'." All right, so he wouldn't straight out tell him of his mistake. It was best, he decided, if Hook simply thought that he couldn't remember.  
  
Hook chuckled and snapped his fingers for Smee to bring him a stool. Once the first mate did as was ordered, Hook sat down and waved his hand, signaling for Smee to leave and close the door shut behind him, before he continued his prodding. "You have forgotten all, haven't you, Slightly?"  
  
"My, I guess the pirate within you does interfere with proper grammar."  
  
"Don't try to be witty, boy! That was the name you took when you arrived to the Neverland!"  
  
"Neverland? Are you daft, old man?" On more than one occasion, while he had accompanied Wendy and her brothers to the park, he had overheard the boys speak of that place in their make-believe play.  
  
"As insolent as Pan!" Hook said as he smiled lightly. "I'm quite sure you remember something!"  
  
Charles remained quiet as he analyzed the reasoning of the man before him. Dressed in an overly dramatic captain's outfit and speaking of a fantasy land from a child's fairy tale did not exactly imply sanity.  
  
Hook sighed as he continued to glare at the boy. "Remove your mask."  
  
Charles contemplated refusing his request, but he realized he'd gain nothing other than infuriating the obviously dangerous man, who was actually behaving civilized at the moment. He placed his hand on his mask, and slowly removed, being careful to keep his eyes on Hook.  
  
Hook growled lightly at the sight of the boy's exposed face. "You are not Slightly"  
  
"Really?" Charles mocked.  
  
"Than why do you have the boy's exact name?" He pondered out loud.  
  
"I don't. My name is Charles...Terwood" Hook had realized his mistake, and there was nothing he could do now, other than simply tell the truth, and hope he himself got out of this alive.  
  
"Yes, I know."  
  
He stared at Charles, seeing that he in deed shared some facial features with Slightly, but nevertheless, was not the boy. "What are you of Wendy's?"  
  
"How do you know Wendy?" Charles replied, remembering that Hook had come specifically for her and she had said that she did indeed, remember him.  
  
"I ask the questions here, Mr. Charles."  
  
"I will not answer any more questions sir, if you do not answer mine."  
  
Hook smiled as Charles' refined personality surfaced. "Fine, I will be a proper host, my lad. How do I know the fair Wendy, you asked ... correct?"  
  
"Yes", Charles replied. Finally, he was going to get some answers.  
  
"Wendy... has been to Neverland, and I extended her an offer to join my ship's company."  
  
Charles remained quiet as he pondered the Captain's answer. He seemed committed to the fantasy so much, that perhaps, it could be reality; but still, he could not see how any of what he had just said or witnessed could be true. How could a pirate, possibly have accosted Wendy with a proposition to piracy? How could she have ever visited an imaginary land? Then again, he was within the wooden walls of a flying ship.  
  
"You really don't know anything do you?" Hook added when he noticed Charles's confusion. His wickedly curved smile reappeard on his face.  
  
"I know reality and reason, both of which, you seem yet to meet."  
  
"Very well," Hook said with a light chuckle. "My turn," He leaned in closer, resting his elbows on his knees. "What are you, to our lovely Wendy?"  
  
Charles's sighed, contemplating to refuse to answer, but knowing that he was bonded to reply by his word. "I am courting her."  
  
"I see" Hook smiled as his suspicions where confirmed. Wendy had pledged her love to Peter Pan, and yet, she had gone off with another man. He savored the thought that he'd use this information as part of his revenge on Pan. "For how long?"  
  
"It's my turn, Captain"  
  
"Oh, pardon me, go ahead" he said as he waved his hand towards Charles and lightly bowed his head.  
  
"What's your interest in Wendy? Why did you try to kidnap her?"  
  
Hook contemplated his response. He did not want to tell the boy of the true relationship between Wendy and Pan. He knowing of that, would surely conflict with his plan, so instead he opted for an edited truth. "She is friends with an enemy of mine. An enemy, I plan to destroy once and for all, and I needed bait." Yes, that answer would do. "Now, for how long has she returned your affections?"  
  
"That is a bit personal, don't you believe Captain?" he said.  
  
"Yes, but nevertheless, it's my question."  
  
Charles sighed but answered. "Three months". It was his turn now, and he knew that now he could ask the question that had been on his mind since the moment the pirate called out for Wendy at the Masque. "How long have you had feelings for her?"  
  
Hook gasped as he shot up from his seat. "How dare you imply such a despicable thing!? She was but a little girl when we met!"  
  
"It's truly not obvious Captain. Only one who loves someone can note the love another harbors for that same person." He said as he looked intently into the sneering pirate's graying blue eyes. "I saw how you looked at her. It's the same way I do. She means something to you."  
  
"Insolent youth! To think that you know what I truly feel! Do not mistake my need for her to gain vengeance on Pan, for desire!"  
  
"I don't mistake, Captain Hook. I am sure of it!"  
  
"This interrogation is over!" cried Hook as he threw the stool against the wall and stomped towards the door, whre he stopped to gaze back towards Charles. "Do not dry my patience! ...Smee!!!" he bellowed for the pirate to open the door. "I won't be so hospitable if you insist on agitating me!"  
  
The door slammed closed, and Charles could hear Smee locking it shut. He was once again alone in the dim-lighted cell, with no more knowledge of his own fate. 

_'I'll find my way back to you, Wendy. I promise.'

* * *

_

How foolish he had been to believe that Hook had gone for good! That villain would have never given up so easily, even after his whole crew had been beaten to submission. He would have rather gone down with his own ship, then simply give up, as he appeared to have done. _'Of course it was a lie!'  
_  
Peter held his flute as he looked over the only spot in the entire Neverland that forever remained dark and gloomy, regardless of his presence._ 'The mermaids shall know if Hook has come back.'_ He placed the flute near his lips and began to play the whimsy melody that called forth the sinister creatures of the waters.  
  
As the wind carried the tune over the calm dark waters, crimson head's of hair slowly rose through the surface, revealing numerous pairs of silver eyes that glared intently at Peter. He pulled the pipe away from his lips as he returned the mermaid's glare. It was always a battle of wills with the mermaids, for before one could get any information from any of them, they had to prove their worth. Finally, the mermaid smirked, and Peter smiled triumphantly, knowing that they had decided to answer his queries.  
  
They silently drifted through the waters towards Peter, and he knelt down upon the ground as they reached the rocks.  
  
"I have questions" he said to the one that swam right to him, while holding his eyes on them yet being careful to not make full eye-contact.  
  
"Then ask them well" she replied as her hypnotic stare tried to burrow into his mind.  
  
"Has Captain Hook returned?" he asked.  
  
"Ask them well" replied another mermaid to the left.  
  
Peter huffed as he re-thought his question. They had to be very specific for the mermaids to respond. "Is Captain Hook alive?"  
  
"More or less" replied the first one.  
  
_'What does that mean?'_ He thought and then tried again. "Does Captain Hook roam the Neverland?"  
  
"Not tonight" said the mermaid to his right.  
  
_'Not tonight...but other nights?' _"Did he roam the Neverland yesterday night?"  
  
"Not then either." Said one from behind the first one.  
  
He was becoming increasingly frustrated with every riddled answer they gave him. Never had it been so hard to get an answer from the mermaids. However, the difficulty had more to do with his own anxiousness which was impeding his mind to come up with clear questions, rather than the mermaids' trickery.  
  
"Has he stepped foot on the Neverland within the past 7 days?"  
  
"Yes" replied the first one.  
  
It was a triumphant failure. They finally answered his question, but with the response he had dreaded to hear. He considered his next question carefully. "Then... if he is not here, in Neverland, where is he?"  
  
"On the sea of stars, turning back to ours" another mermaid replied.  
  
"He's flying back to Neverland?"  
  
"You are indeed not wrong" replied another.  
  
Hook still knew how to fly! That treacherous pirate had forced the secret of how to do so from Wendy and stolen fairy dust from Tinkerbell. "Where" he stopped, as he re-phrased the question in his mind "...Where is he flying back from?" He asked, trying to calm the urgency in his tone.  
  
"The long and dull" replied the first mermaid.  
  
_'Long and dull...Lon...and dull...London!'_ Hook had gone to London. Could it be that he had gone to harm Wendy and the boys?  
  
"What did he go there for?"  
  
"For revenge" replied the second mermaid.  
  
Revenge! Peter was anxious and afraid for their safety now. "On who?"  
  
"The insolent youth."  
  
Hook was out for revenge on him, so why go to London? "How?"  
  
"Ask well" replied the fourth mermaid.  
  
"Did he capture someone?"  
  
"Aye...tread wisely", said the mermaid and slowly submerged into the darkness of the pool followed by the rest as they smiled wickedly at the anxious boy.  
  
"No...wait..." he cried as he leaned over above the water, but they were no longer in sight."Damn it...I did not ask wisely..." The mermaids never felt an obligation to answer every question until the inquirer was satisfied. They answered only as long as they were entertained, and no longer, and they had apparently lost interest in this game tonight.  
  
Peter stood up and looked towards the skies, but he did not see anything in the air, other then the glowing stars and the midnight clouds. "Hook has a prisoner..." His heart began to pound faster within his chest, sending thudding vibrations throughout his body. His thoughts were submerged in hopeful yet terrified concern for the one that could possibly be on her way back to him.  
  
"Wendy...if it truly is you who he has captured...." He said as he lifted up into the darkened sky. "I'll save you...I'll save you _every time_ you need me to save you..."

* * *

The night had an eerie calm that none of the boys liked at all. They had gone to bed, praying for the safety of those who had gone out to the ball. They did not know what they had been afraid of, but there was obviously something evil about that night.  
  
Slightly lay asleep in John's bed, as the two boys tossed and turned all night, mumbling incoherent words in their asleep, which seemed to show a common nightmare.  
  
"No...Hook...slid his throat...", Slightly mumbled in between thrusts of his troubled body.  
  
"Pan...to save...he's gone..." John said, as if agreeing with the other boy.  
  
Slightly's eyes shot open as he quickly sat up in bed. "Peter!!!!" he cried, waking up every one else in the room.  
  
"Slightly! What's wrong?" Curly asked. He had run out of his bed the moment Slightly's startling cry woke him, followed by Nibs and Tootles, who had done the same.  
  
Slightly looked at each one of the boys as he tried to regain control over his violent breathing. He rubbed the sweat from the side of his neck as he said "I've had a nightmare...it was of one of Wendy's stories..."  
  
"Of Peter Pan?" Tootles asked, taking a seat at the edge of their bed.  
  
"More like...of Captain Hook, right?" Nibs corrected as he leaned over the bed rail.  
  
"Yes... I do not remember much of it...except..."  
  
"His eyes..." John chimed in as he looked down with an absent gaze. "Blue as forget me-nots...except when he was slashing someone across the chest..."  
  
"Yes...that was it..." Slightly said.  
  
"So we've all had the same dream...was does that mean?" Tootles asked with deep worry as he bit his lip in fright.  
  
"I do not know..." John said, but then remembered their earlier concern for Wendy and their parents."Have they returned from the Masque?"  
  
The boys looked at each other with frightful eyes. Had something happened to any of them? Slightly quickly ran out of the room and looked down the stairway towards the coat rack near the front door, where he noticed that his uncle's coat and his aunt's, mother's and Wendy's shawls were resting. He sighed with relief as he walked back to the room. "They are home..." He gently closed the door shut behind him and returned to John's bed.  
  
"Good" John laid back down. "I guess it was just a dream" he said, although deep down, he knew something strange was definitely going on.  
  
The boys looked at each other momentarily, before they turned around to walk back to bed, when suddenly, the twins and Michael came running into the room, as quietly as they could, carrying their pants, boots and shirts, with a tiny glow trailing behind them.  
  
All the boys looked up at the fairy with wide eyes, unwilling to believe what they were staring at.  
  
"We have to go!" Michael announced and pulled at John's hand.  
  
"What is..." John squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, hoping to see the little creature gone "...is that a pixie!?" he said, still staring at the floating orb of light.  
  
"Of course I am a fairy" the little glow chimed as she came into his focus, right before his face. She was a rather pretty little thing, with long black hair pulled back into a pony tale with a sky blue lace and dressed in white oleander and tiny sky blue wildflower petals. "I have come back for the lost boys! Tinkerbell is calling them back into rank!" she chimed at the top of her lungs.  
  
"Tinkerbell?".Slightly recalled the long suppressed memories of Neverland that he had attributed to nightly dreams derived from Wendy's bed-time stories.

"Yes!!!" the fairy acried as she fidgeted in anxiousness. "She sent me here for you! Peter Pan needs you! Hook is back and will surely try to fight Peter Pan again!" she said as she looked around at all the boys.  
  
"Yeah...she said that the new lost boys aren't enough...we have to go back and help Peter!" Eric added as he jumped about the room with one leg up in the air, tugging at his boot.  
  
"We gotta go! We gotta go! Peter Pan needs you!" the little fairy chirped as she pulled at Curly's hair.  
  
"Ow...Peter Pan!" he said, as thoughts scrambled through his mind, trying to reconcile reality with the little mythical creature yanking at his curls.  
  
"I told you he was real!" Erin boasted as he buttoned up his shirt.  
  
"My word!" John gazed into space, finally admitting to himself, the reality of the whole ordeal.  
  
"Let's go!" the fairy said as she anxiously circled the boys.  
  
"What about Wendy?!" Eric cried and turned to run to Wendy's room before he even finished his question.  
  
"I was not told about a _Wendy_!" she said and he halted his dash towards the hall. "I was told about lost boys! That is you! Let's go!"  
  
"We shall not leave without her!" Slightly cried with stubborness and jumped out of bed as John and the other boys quickly got up to throw on whatever clothes they could quickly get their hands on. The fairy flew after Slightly as he entered Wendy's room, careful as to not wake his mother or aunt and uncle.  
  
"Wendy" Slightly whispered as he came upon her sleeping body.  
  
He stared at her face, as he could see dried up tear streaks on her cheeks, as if she had cried herself to sleep. "Wendy...wake up!" he tried again.  
  
She opened her eyes and saw the tiny little glow next to Slightly. "Oh my!" she said as she sat up at once. "There's a fairy in this room!"

"Shh...", Slightly hushed her, placing one finger on his lips and extending his other hand to her. "We have to go...Tinkerbell has sent ...", he paused and turned to the fairy, "What is your name?"  
  
The little fairy sighed with exasperation, "Snowchime! Fine...take your Wendy...but let us get going! I beg of you!" she chimed.  
  
"Right," Slightly turned back to Wendy. "Snowchime has come to take us back to Neverland...Wendy...I know it is hard to believe..."  
  
"No..." she interrupted him and quickly got out of bed and rushed to our closet. "It is not at all hard to believe! Hook has returned...and he kidnapped Charles tonight!"  
  
"What?!" Slightly shouted a bit louder than he intended to, so he quickly slapped his palm upon his wide open mouth.  
  
"Grrrr..." Snowchime cringed in fury. "Talk about that later! You must hurry now!"  
  
"Right" Slightly rushed to the door and the fairy flew back to the other room. "We shall be waiting in the old nursery! Hurry Wendy!"  
  
He closed the door behind him as Wendy searched through her clothing for the simplest garment she could find to allow for quick movement and ease in battle, both of which she knew she'd desperately need. _'Oh God...Charles...we're coming...just hold on...'_ All night long, her thoughts had been on Charles, his fate, and what she could do to save him, for she knew that the police's search through the city was in vain. However, since the moment she had seen Hook appear through the darkened night, her mind had been plagued with the memory of Peter Pan. For long, she thought he was but a dream, and felt so foolish to have loving feelings for a fixture of her own imagination, but now, she knew that he was real, and that he in deed had cared for her once, and she found herself torn between her girlish desires to see him again, and the torment of Charles's capture. If Tinkerbell had sent for them, then there was a very good possibility that Peter Pan remembered them...remembered her, but did he still care for her? Did he still return her feelings? What would happen when he found out about Charles and her? What would she do? So many questions bombarded her mind and heart. Did she still love Pan? How much did she truly care for Charles? She could not bear to think of hurting either one.

_'I can't think about this now!' _She pulled out the plain blue dress with a hem that reached her down to the mid-shin, and sleeves that cut off high up near her shoulders. It was the lightest thing she could find and she knew it would allow her great mobility. It was the dress she wore when she was at home and did not care to wear the fancy attire her aunt insisted she should.

_We have to find Charles! We have to save him!' _


	10. Grown Up Feelings

**Chapter 10: Grown Up Feelings**

"Lost Boys! Attention!" ordered Peter.

The boys instantly dropped whatever they were doing, and rushed to form a line at the opening of the tunnel from which Peter emerged. They stood in file, with their backs fully straight and their shoulders dropped.  
  
Peter landed on the floor and quickly marched towards the back of the room, where the boys kept the rather large and rusted metal pail used to store their weapons. Urgency could be seen in his every step and movement.  
  
"We have a rescue mission!" he said. "Armor up and let's get going. I'll tell you along the way!"

The boys glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes, placing the responsibility of telling Peter Pan of Tink's orders on the boy next to each. Finally, Heath spoke up.  
  
"We can't Peter." He said as he stepped forward. "Tink told us we had to wait."  
  
Stunned, Peter stopped his rummaging through the weapons and turned towards Heath. "Tinkerbell told you to wait? For what?", he asked impatiently and looked around for the little fairy. "Where is she?"

"Out on the look out at Pirate's Cove." Heath continued. "She rushed in here a few hours ago and said to tell you when you came back to simply wait. She said she had sent out for reinforcements and that we shouldn't take off until they arrived."  
  
Peter maintained his obviously annoyed, but relenting gaze on Heath. He sighed deeply and continued searching through the swords and daggers, picking out the best ones. "Reinforcements?" He had planned to set out in search of Hook's whereabouts right away, to be able to ambush him in the dark of night, but he saw the reasoning in Tink's orders. The same idea had scampered through his mind. The new lost boys were great fun and loyal to the core, but they had no real experience in battle, and he would need soldiers that had fought the murderous pirates before hand if he was to save Wendy. "Did she say who?"  
  
"No" replied Heath.  
  
"Can we fall out of line now, Peter?" asked Tweed. He had been trying with all his might to remain completely still, but a child of 7 can only do so for a few minutes before his limbs begin to fidget like a fish on dry land.  
  
"Yes." Peter continued searching through the weapons, and finally picked out five swords and four daggers and called Heath to him.  
  
"Take these and sharpen them" he ordered. Heath took them from his arms and obediently took a seat on a stool, placing his heal on another stool and picking up the smooth rock they used for sharpening their weapons, and began to carry out his task.  
  
"What do you want us to do while we wait?" asked Juni.  
  
"Make more bows" he said after he counted the few they had in the basket next to the swords and knives. "But make the tips sharper than usual. They won't be used in a game with the Indians. These will need to pierce through skin."  
  
The mere mention of inflicting actual injury on someone made every boy's skin crawl. "Are we really to go to battle, Peter?" asked Kip.  
  
"Yes" He looked around at the frightened faces of the boys. He had forgotten how terrifying an honest to goodness swordfight was to anyone who had not truly fought one before. The memories of his first battle were long forgotten, and every time he came face to face with an opponent was as much a game as it was a struggle for his own life. It obviously wasn't so to any of the new lost boys.  
  
"Hook is a fiend beyond compare. A true adversary." The makings of a wicked smile emerged at the corner of his lips. "It was my favorite game, to outwit him and all." He could never think of the mere facts about a battle. Concern for whom ever Hook had captured, be it Wendy or one of the boys, was obviously the main thing on his mind, but nevertheless, it was to be an adventure. A real one, and not just pretend like he had had to make do for a while now. It was the promise of a good swordfight and death defying feats of heroism. Something he realized he had missed greatly in the peace ridden days since he believed Hook had died. "It will be great to fight a worthy opponent again!"  
  
"Where did he go?" asked Kip, fully enthralled by the odd smile that appeared on Peter's face.  
  
He turned to look at Kip. "I thought I had finally done him in. I had to. He went to far that time. He poisoned Tink, and almost made the last group of lost boys and their mother walk the plank."  
  
The boys gasped at the sound of the word _mother_. It pulled at their heart, whispering into their ears sweet songs and lullabies of a warmth that they could not explain. It was odd to them that such a feeling could be brought on by a simple word.  
  
"Mother?" repeated Tweed. "What's that?"  
  
The memory of Wendy's sweet smile and azure eyes that sparkled with the same tenderness rose in his thoughts. "She's the one that makes sure you wash behind your ears, dresses your wounds when you are hurt, and makes you drink that disgusting medicine when you are ill."  
  
"I think I had one" said Kip and the boys turned around to him. "I remember. She sang me to sleep, and kissed me on my cheek." He placed one hand on his cheek, recalling the warmth of her lips against his flesh.  
  
"Where is she?" Tweed asked Peter, hopeful to meet such a lovely thought in person.  
  
Peter's eyes rested on Tweed, but it was not him he saw. It was her face, with tears that glittered silver in the bright moonlight and her ever understanding smile as he waved goodbye from outside her window. "She went back to her home, in London."

* * *

Hours passed by and the dawn was slowly making its presence known, as the twinkle of the stars slowly dimmed away by the brightening light of day; but still, there was no sign of Tinkerbell or her reinforcements. Peter was becoming increasingly frustrated as his patience was running thin. He couldn't take just sitting around and waiting inside the underground home, so he flew out and perched high above the tree branches with the excuse that he wanted to be aware of Hook or the reinforcements' arrival the earliest as possible; but really, all he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts.  
  
Heath sensed the turmoil in his being. He knew that the boy within him was just aching for the fun of the battle, but the maturing man behind the impish boy was entirely concerned with whoever was Hook's captive. He thought he had a pretty good idea of who Peter thought it might be.  
  
He flew out of their underground home and up the tree to where Peter sat perched. His presence did not go overlooked by Peter, but he didn't turn to look at him at all. He just wasn't ready to leave his thoughts.  
  
Heath looked at Peter, noting the stern look on his face that was so un- childlike; so solemn. This was the mischievous youth with pranks and fun always on his mind, but right now, there was nothing playful about him at all. He didn't know how he could speak to this Peter; what words he could say. He didn't even know why he had approached him, or what he had at first intended to say, but he opened his mouth and words came out. "It's the mother...isn't it?"  
  
Peter skipped a breath, stunned by Heath's question, but he did not show it on his face. He looked expressionlessly at Heath, remaining quiet for a second's passing. "Maybe" he said and then turned away.  
  
Heath sighed quietly in relief. He was getting somewhere. Peter had opened up, just the slightest bit, but still, he had done so; giving Heath a chance to dig deeper into the innermost workings of his mind. The area of his soul that he was sure even Peter did not know existed. He sat down on the branch just a few feet below Peter's and looked up at him. How could he approach the matter of his feelings for the girl without upsetting him?  
  
He was searching through his mind for the right words to say when Peter unexpectedly broke the silence. "She's like no other", he said with his sight still off in the distance.  
  
Heath was stunned, but desperately strived to hold back the expression from his face for fear that Peter would shut back up. He gulped silently and aimed blindly into the dark. "Wendy?"  
  
Peter was once again surprised, but this time he could not keep it from showing on his face. "How do you know her name?"  
  
"I've heard you speak it."  
  
"When?"  
  
"On night's like this" he answered and looked up at the blinking stars. "When you come out here for a breath of fresh air, to be on the look out, or simply don't say."  
  
"So, you spy on me?"  
  
"No!" He shook his head aggressively. "I just know that something troubles you, and I get worried. You're our leader; we are there to help you whenever you need it."  
  
It was an understandable concern, so Peter smirked and turned away from him again. "You act kinda like a grown up sometimes" said Peter with worry in his eyes. "Too much, actually."  
  
Heath smiled absently. "I guess" He sighed as another silence passed. "What happened...with her I mean?"  
  
Peter returned his gaze, unsure of whether to tell Heath at all about Wendy, but for months now he had kept it all in, and for years he had felt her presence. He needed some kind of outlet. "I brought her here, just like I brought all of you. But that was a mistake. She didn't really want to be here. She had a family, and she decided to go back to them; to grow up."  
  
"I see" was all Heath could come up with. His suspicions where true, and Peter Pan had actually harbored romantic feelings for a girl. He still did. But, did he himself yet realize it? "And you never told her..." he paused, unsure of whether to finish his sentence, "that you liked her?"  
  
"Well, she knew I did...she was all right...for a girl. If I didn't like her, I wouldn't have brought her here."  
  
"I mean" said Heath with extreme caution in every syllable, "that you...cared about her?"  
  
Peter stared at Heath with glaring eyes. "You mean 'love'?"  
  
That was truly a frightening word, even for Heath, whose mind was older by many more years than his actual age. He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess."  
  
"She had a fascination with that word." He said spitefully and turned away from Heath again. "She even brought it up once, and ruined the fun we were having. I hate that word....it's for grown ups. Children like us don't even really know what it is. We can't even really talk about it... It's so beyond our grasp."  
  
Heath smiled politely and lifted into the air. "I don't know about that. Sometimes, we are not as young as we think we are." He said. "Sometimes, grown up words, such as that one, have a way of sneaking into our understanding without us noticing."  
  
"Yeah well...not for me" replied Peter with complete certainty. "I could never even speak that word without cringing. It simply offends me."  
  
Heath continued to smile kindly and said, "Really... because I could swear, you just talked about it, and I didn't see you cringe at all" before he flew back down and into the tunnel, leaving Peter alone with that baffling realization.

* * *

As soon as the older boys admitted to themselves that Peter Pan and Neverland were as real as the tiny pixie before their eyes, they knew that they remembered how to fly, so Snowchime did not have to remind them and simply flew around them, showering them with her golden dust. They took to the air, with thoughts of their greatest adventure swimming in their minds. Peter Pan, the Indian's celebration in their honor, their triumph over Hook, and their safe return to their home, to the parents that embraced then all.  
  
But Wendy did not find it as easy to hold a happy thought, and so, even after Snowchime sprinkled her twice, she still did not feel the wind beneath her heels for long. There was much troubling her mind, for her to think of anything lovely for too long. Charles was in danger, and Peter Pan would know of her forgetful heart. She cared deeply for the handsome boy with the loving blue eyes and adoration for her, but still, she knew, she felt the spark of something more for Peter Pan. In fact, he was the happy thought that she held when she did in deed lift off the ground, but then her guilty heart would remind her of the troubles she would bring to Peter and Charles once either one would learn of the other, and so her feet would touch the floor again, for she could not bear to think of inflicting pain on either. But after a few more minutes of silent contemplation, she finally held on to the one thought that did work, and so she lifted off into the air and the frustrated fairy finally lead them out the window and into the sky.  
  
It had been a long flight above the streets of London and through the sea of graying clouds. They broke through the sheltered cloak encircling their world and up above, past the planets orbiting in their endless path. They flew right past the winking stars towards the brightest one.  
  
It was a flight that always took a whole night, but it was always a joy for never could one feel as if the visions of that voyage were a mundane thing. They were on a mission; sure, they had a most grave and urgent purpose for returning to the land of Never more, but still, it was a joy.  
  
Along the way, Slightly asked Snowchime why Tinkerbell had sent her instead of coming herself, so she reported all that Tinkerbell told her. She had flown into the Fairy Woods looking specifically for her. Tinkerbell was a sort of celebrity in their world, for she was the Pan's fairy and whenever she needed or wanted something, all the fairies did as she said, which was an achievement in deed, for fairies are known to be very selfish and self centered creatures.  
  
"She told me that Pan was in desperate need of his lost boys, and that she needed me to come get you because she was to be on the look out for 'Hook'." She paused. "Is he really such a terribly tough opponent that Peter Pan needs help?"  
  
"Oh yes!" cried Curly. "He almost did Peter in!"  
  
Snowchime was amazed, which struck Wendy, John and Michael as odd. "Do you not know of Hook?" John asked.  
  
"Well, I heard of him, but he was gone before I was born, so I never met the man."  
  
"How old are you, Snowchime?" asked Michael.  
  
"55 moons old and counting!" she said.  
  
"Fairies can keep track of time in the Neverland?" Wendy asked.  
  
"Yes." Slightly replied. "The forgetfulness seems to only affect us humans. Fairies can recall everything since their birth, although they hardly care to reminisce. They live for the present day, and not one hour beyond it. It's quite fascinating, really."  
  
"But if she's 55 days old, then why is she full grown?" Wendy asked.  
  
"Most fairies aren't born as babies." Nibbs said. "They are born like they are, and that is how they stay."  
  
"So how are they born if they don't all start off as infants?" asked Michael.  
  
"From what I remember", Slightly replied, "a fairy is born from the sparkle of a baby's first laughter."  
  
"Amazing!" cried Wendy as she turned away from Slightly to look at Snowchime, who had perched herself on Wendy's shoulder, smiling happily as she listened to their conversation about her. She was much more at ease now that they were so close to Neverland, and so the boys and Wendy got to know the real Snowchime, who was just a fun loving and extremely vain creature. She took to Wendy, after her initial dislike of her for prolonging their departure, and rode on her shoulder most of the way, taking great pleasure in Wendy's fawning over her beauty.  
  
She was deeply submerged in Wendy's continued admiration, when she noticed their approaching the brilliant star that was the Neverland. "Oh..." she said as she lifted off Wendy's shoulder and flew before them all. "Hold on to each other now!" She flew by each of them as they locked their hands around the ankles of the one before them, forming the human chain, until she reached Michael at the end and flew back to the front and sat back down on Wendy's shoulder. "Here we go!" she chimed. The heavenly bodies around them began to blur as the star began to pull at them, increasing their speed to that of light itself. The dark of space melted away into golden flickers and radiant colors that quickly turned into swirls of vibrant lights, engulfing them as they held on to each other with all their might, laughing whole-heartedly the entire way. Just as they felt there hands weakening from their hold on each other, the swirl of golden colors burst apart and they were thrust into the open skies of an early morning Neverland, as the sun woke up and kissed the island with its golden warmth, welcoming them back to the land of their childhood dreams.  
  
As they regained control over their flight, a tiny golden glimmer rushed towards them from the shrubbery of the island.  
  
"Tinkerbell!" cried Tootles as he flew towards her, with the rest trailing behind him and calling out her name in glee.  
  
"Boys!" she chimed. She flew up to each one of their faces and tugged at their cheeks as she stretched her arms around them in a tight hug, but when she came upon Wendy, she stopped and politely bowed. "We need to talk" she chimed and Wendy nodded in acceptance.  
  
Tinkerbell flew to Slightly's ear and quickly whispered words that made him bite his lip in uncertainty and worry, and then drew back towards Wendy when she was done.  
  
"All right men" Slightly said, as the mere scent of the sweet Neverland breeze placed him right back in his role as second in command. "Hand up!" he ordered as he put his right hand up in the air. "We are hereby ordered by our Miss Bell to swear to not speak of the true nature of Charles and Wendy's relationship."  
  
Wendy's lips parted slightly as she breathed in deeply, but she did not say a word. She was not at all looking forward to deceiving Peter, but she had thought long and hard, since they left London, on the best way to handle the situation, and still, she could not come up with anything. She knew Tinkerbell knew Peter Pan better than anyone, and if this was how she thought this was to be handled, than Wendy just had to agree.  
  
The boys looked at each other, realizing the reason for such an oath, but still reluctant until they turned to look at Wendy who simply nodded lightly. They slowly put their right hands up in the air and said, "Agreed" after which, the lost boys snorted up a wad of spit into the air below them, with John and Michael following in suit.  
  
"I knew I could count on my boys" she chimed. "Snowchime! Take the boys to Peter, and keep low, Hook is combing the skies from his ship."  
  
Snowchime saluted Tinkerbell and rushed to do as she was told. "Come along", she chimed and the boys uneasily turned to wave bye to Wendy and followed her.  
  
As soon as Tinkerbell thought they were out of hearing range, she flew up to Wendy's ear. "It has been a while, hasn't it?" she chimed slowly so that Wendy could understand every word.  
  
Wendy chuckled awkwardly. "Yes, four years. It is good to see you again."  
  
"Same here" replied Tinkerbell with complete honesty. She had learned to like the girl towards the end of their adventure, but still, she could not help but feel awkward with her return.  
  
"Wendy, I guess you know by now that I know about Charles", she chimed as her displeasure with the news showed on her face.  
  
"Yes", Wendy replied. "How did you know?"  
  
"I stowed away on the deck of the Jolly Roger, and I overheard Albino and Starky talking about his capture."

Wendy could not help but ask for Charles's state. "Is he all right? Have they harmed him at all?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. He is fine. He is imprisoned in a cell within the ship." She paused and stared down into the water below them before continuing. "Peter cannot know. We will save him, and you will leave. You will not tell Peter."  
  
"I understand." Wendy said as she desperately tried to hold back the few tears of guilt that collected behind her eyes.  
  
Tinkerbell noticed her swelling tears and sighed deeply. She was not one to talk of feelings either, but still, she felt a need to comfort the girl. "It is not at all your fault. This was supposed to happen. You were supposed to live your life, and so was he. You will, and he will also. That is the way you both chose it to be."  
  
Wendy nodded her head, as she sniffed back the stubborn tears. "I know." She sighed and looked up at Tinkerbell. "Pardon my apparent rudeness" she said as she gained control over herself, "I mean nothing by it, but...why are you being so...kind to me?"  
  
Tinkerbell's head snapped back as she cocked her eyes in an effort to seem offended. "Because I have my reasons, stupid girl!" she quickly retorted. "Now come along before Hook spots us!" she chimed and started towards the island, leading Wendy back to Peter Pan.


	11. My Wendy

**Author's Note:**

**Alert!:** I know that Peter Pan is very ignorant about certain things, such as love and specially lust. But think back to when you first started feeling such things. You felt them, although you didn't quite understand them. Now, Peter Pan has grown (even though he hasn't noticed) and he has matured...just a tiny bit. He's a teenager and teenagers are just raging balls of hormones. Just keep that in mind as you read this chapter. Don't worry, Peter Pan isn't as mature as this chapter would you lead you to believe. He just allowed those feelings to control him for the time being...kinda like in the Fairy Dance scene, or when he "seduces" Wendy into going to Neverland on her window sill. Truly not very child-like at all...but still believable... no?

**Fairy's second:** A term I made it up (I think) and used somewhere in this chapter. It means the smallest portion of a second. A tiny moment.

* * *

**Chapter 11: My Wendy**  
  
Heath had been the only one that stayed up the whole night, for even Peter actually retired into his private room for a quick nap after staying out until dawn. He sat on the rocking chair next to the fire pit that had been carved out of the rocky side of the wall with the smoke stack burrowing several yards away from the underground home up into the surface, which was camouflaged by another fire pit meant to disguise the smoke's actual origin to any enemy's eyes.  
  
He stared absently into the fire pit as he contemplated his conversation with Peter Pan. The boy still had not realized what all those changes within him were about; in fact, he probably hadn't realized there were any changes at all. However, that was not the troubling part; for if it was time for Peter Pan to grow up, then there was nothing anyone could do. But, the land! It was obvious that the land was connected to him, and if Peter did continue to feel things that only adults do, and those feelings made him grow up, then...what would happen to Neverland? Would it change completely? What about the people and creatures that lived here? What would happen to the other boys and him? They couldn't go back to the cold world....there was nothing there for them; nothing at all. And Peter...would he accept his fate with dignity and grace or would it crash upon him with the weight of the sky itself? Was it even wise to alert him to the changes within him, like he had done earlier? It had seen right at the time and part of him still thought it was; but still, so many questions...  
  
He was startled from his thoughts by loud whopping voices and tumbling sounds from all four entrance tunnels. He dashed for a sword from the weapon's pail and turned to face the intruders as they shot out from the entrances and rolled onto the floor laughing loudly. _'Who...are these the reinforcements?'  
_  
"That brings me back!" cried Curly as he sat up and rolled out of the way as Tootles came tumbling after him.  
  
"Yes, I must say, I think I'd missed those tunnel entrances!" John agreed.  
  
Heath inspected every boy from where he stood. Half of them seemed younger than him while the other half seemed to be about his own age. He was about to speak when one more boy came shooting down the pole that was placed right in the middle of the room and landed right before him, with Snowchime on his shoulder.  
  
"Hello, my good man!" Slightly said and extended his hand to him. "Heath, I presume?"  
  
Heath shook his hand and smiled kindly. "Yes, and seeing that Miss Snowchime, here, is your escort, I believe you are the reinforcements?"  
  
"That we are!" He said. "We are here at Peter Pan's service! Ready for the battle!" He looked around the room. "Where is he?"  
  
"Heath? Who are they?", asked Tweed as the boys entered the room from a wider tunnel that led to their sleeping quarters.  
  
"Lost boys, such as yourself ...or rather...the old batch!" Slightly said.  
  
"Lost boys!" cried a voice that seemed to be heading towards them at an alarming rate from behind an animal hide that hung from the wall to their right. Curly and the rest where barely getting up when Peter suddenly burst through the tunnel hidden behind the animal hide and rushed towards them, knocking them back on their bums. They tumbled around on the floor with cries of "Peter!", "Great to see you again!" and Peter rubbing their heads with his fisted knuckles.

* * *

She was nervous. How could she not be? It was he, the boy that crept into her room at nights, and stayed with her until dawn, enriching her dreams with visions of beauty and love. It was he, the one that smiled eternally in her thoughts, and forever gazed at her with those gorgeous green orbs of charm that made her heart beat like the celebration drums of the Indian Village. The one that took her breath and refused to return it until his visit was complete and daylight seeped through her window. The one that held her up to the heavens as they danced in the silver of the night, amongst the gold of the fey. The one that owned her hidden kiss.  
  
Tinkerbell led her to the new underground home, which was a few miles north of the old one. She moved swiftly, taking great care to notice any prying eyes that might be hidden amongst the trees. Finally, they came upon the wide twisted oak that housed Peter and his new men, and Tink glanced around again before pouncing on a mushroom hidden amongst a bushel of twenty more or so growing from around the thick protruding roots of the tree, which split the bark apart and revealed a dark tunnel with steps that descended far below the ground. Wendy gasped as she noticed the ingenuity of the camouflage and the mechanism of its door.  
  
"That is far more clever than the entrances of the old home!" she cried as she followed Tinkerbell into the tunnel. The tiny fairy bounced against another mushroom on the right side of the wall which merged the bark shut behind them. Her glow was now the only light in the tunnel.  
  
"Yes", she chimed. "One of the new boys, Kip, is extremely clever. He was the sole architect of the whole home. It's much roomier than the old one, and with greater security against intruding pirates. This is the only entrance with stairs. I thought you'd prefer it to the slides or pole."  
  
Wendy nodded as she walked down the tunnel after Tinkerbell, when the fairy suddenly stopped before her and turned around. "One more thing, Wendy." She chimed. "Peter is changing, and I don't know if it's wise to let him know of it."  
  
Wendy furrowed her brow in concern. "What do you mean changing? Is he all right?"  
  
"Yes, he's fine...but he's growing." She chimed.  
  
"Growing?" she whispered. "How old is he now?"  
  
"Old?" she chuckled faintly. "He's decades old, but his body does not show it, neither does his mind." She turned her head down towards the opening into the home. They could hear obscure voices and tumbling noises, so she was sure the boys were in the middle of a joyous reunion and would not bother to look up into the tunnel. She spoke in a whisper. "I'm guessing he's as old as you, but you must realize that Peter does not want to grow up!"  
  
Wendy nodded weakly. She knew that all too well. "I know."  
  
"He hasn't noticed. I don't know how that silly goose could not, and the lost boys haven't said anything, so I guess they haven't either. I haven't mentioned it at all, because I don't know if I should."  
  
"Why is he growing?"  
  
Tinkerbell turned her eyes to Wendy and gave her a look of great incredulity. How could the girl not know why? "Because of you!" she chimed loudly, forgetting to speak in silence for fear of being overheard. She covered her mouth with both hands and shifted her eyes back down to the entrance, as Wendy gulped and stared at her in dismay.  
  
"Me?" she asked. "Why me?"  
  
Tinkerbell sighed as she let her hands down from her lips. "Look", she chimed in a lower voice. "We can't discuss this right now. We have to go in."  
  
She led Wendy down the few remaining stairs, and with every inch she moved, the closer she knew she was to seeing her golden boy again. Her breathing seemed to quicken and seize all at the same time. Her heart beats pounded within her chest, sending stirring, warming vibrations throughout her body. She absently smoothed the hair away from her face and placed it behind her ear. The voices from within the room became clearer, and standing high above them all, was his joyous laughter. He was so close; so very close.

* * *

His happiness burst from him when he realized his old comrades had returned. The moment he was awakened by rambunctious noises, he had simply turned over on his bed, believing it was only Heath and the boys; but then, he heard Slightly's voice. Sure, it had lost most of its youth, but it was unmistakably his voice, and Peter shot out of bed and rushed to the main room.  
  
They rolled around on the floor in joyous celebration, with sly remarks from Peter on how badly each one of them looked with growing age, to which each boy suddenly stopped and realized that Peter had grown as much as any of them, if not more. How could that happen in Neverland?  
  
Unaware of the odd looks the boys gave him, Peter motioned to get up to introduce Heath, Juni, Kip, and Tweed to them, when out of the left corner of his eyes, he noticed Tinkerbell's glow emerging from the tunnel. His lips barely began to part to voice his thank you for returning the boys, when his eyes opened wide and his breathing seized, letting out a gasp as silent as the calmest breeze.  
  
Slender fingers wrapped around the opening as a young lady's figure emerged from the darkness of the hole, lighted by the fairy's golden glow. She stepped forward into the light and stared at Peter Pan. In that one moment, they heard nothing more than their own struggling breath and the rush of heat to their faces. Their hearts found their way to each other and their beating merged into one, uniting every emotion and feeling as if they were two halves of the same soul, finally allowed to join again.  
  
Peter struggled to speak. His voice had fled from him entirely, leaving him a mumbling fool, unable to give voice to the surge of overpowering sensations that now controlled his whole. He was weak, and yet he could hold himself up. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and to make sure she was truly there, but his legs refused to obey his commands to stand up. He felt the odd need to rush to her and press his lips all over her porcelain skin and run his fingers through her golden bronze locks. So many odd needs bubbled within him. He would have been worried and most likely, even frightened of the reactions in his body and the odd thoughts that rushed through his mind, if he was not just completely entranced.

It was as if every emotion and feeling, every whisper and every image of her that had haunted him all these years suddenly rushed through his chest and threatened to explode right out of him again, just like that night on the Jolly Roger.  
  
It was her. It was really her, and she was more beautiful than he remembered. Age was his nemesis, of course, but still, he could not pretend that it was hers, for it was obvious that she had grown lovelier with every day that she had been away. Her eyes were as blue as the sapphire skies and twinkled with the light of a thousand night stars. Her thick and plush lips seemed to whisper alluring words to his own without truly saying them at all. Her soft crème skin beckoned to his hand for a gentle touch and the blush of her cheeks seemed to show the same emotions that he was feeling, coursing through her veins. His eyes involuntarily traveled down from her face to her curving body. He was glad to know that she was not yet grown completely beyond his reach. She was, of course no longer a little girl, but a maturing young lady, with the gentle lift at her bosoms that melted down into a delicate waist and curving hips. That image frightened the most of him, but a part of him, the part that controlled him at the moment, could not help but stare at her in gawking pleasure.  
  
His breath finally returned to him in fast and quick pulls of air. His chest heaved with the flow of the air and the rhythm of his violently pounding heart.  
  
The boys and Tinkerbell looked on, as they felt the tension between the two increasing, their feelings emanating from their bodies in a warmth that filled the room. Heath's eyes traveled between Peter and the girl, noting the tremble on her lips and the passionate gaze from his eyes. So that was the girl, who was responsible for it all. This young lady was the mother to his father pretend. This 'Wendy' was the Silver Queen to their Golden King.  
  
_'Wendy',_ he said in his mind, trying to force her name out his lips. _'Wendy'_, he tried again, but still no sound came out. "Wendy", he finally whispered and gasped as his voice returned to his throat.  
  
"Peter" she sighed back, and moved completely into the room and towards him.  
  
It really was her! He heard her speak! She was here, and not just a vision like before. He stood up, slowly at first but as soon as one foot was firmly planted on the ground he leapt up and quickly closed the short distance between them, but stopped as he came just a foot before her. They stared into each other's eyes and she smiled warmly, sending a shiver down his body. He slowly lifted his hand to her face, but hesitated for a moment, for fear that he would place it on her cheek, only to have it pass right through her with no feel of her warm flesh at all, but the cool air that whispered where her ghost stood. Finally, he sighed and gently brushed her cheek with the tip of his fingers, sighing again but with relief and glee to know that there was warmth.  
  
"Wendy", he whispered, "You're really here...you...came back."  
  
He was there, standing before her, his face only a foot away from hers. His perfect forest green eyes looking directly into hers, just like in every one of her dreams, except that this time, they did not simply show a boyish fawning for her, but a full-fledged look of love that seemed to burrow deep within her own eyes into her soul and heart, intertwining their spirits as one. That look perfectly matched his grown body, for he was no longer a slender boy. He loomed over her by at least a half foot, which made him to be around 6 feet tall. The soft skin around his jaw and neck had melted away, revealing the defining contour of his handsome face. His shoulders and chest had broadened and his arms had thickened with the development of the visible muscles that protruded through his bronzed skin. The slight curve of his pecks and ripples of his abdomen were also beyond child-like.  
  
He was perfect in her eyes, for as the years passed, she felt awkward at having such stirring feelings for someone, imaginary or real, that remained twelve while she aged, especially when she reached her sixteenth year two weeks ago. She wanted to throw her arms around him, and simply press her lips to his, but no, it was not proper, and there were children all around them ... and there was Charles. _'Charles'_  
  
"Yes, she came back!" chimed Tinkerbell as she rushed to his ear, in an effort to interrupt the loving reunion before it caused too many problems. "She had to, for Hook has captured a friend of theirs from school. He thought it was Slightly, so we must now save the boy and return him home as soon as possible!"  
  
Peter and Wendy were shaken away from their trance by Tinkerbell's annoyed chirping. She was right, Wendy thought. Peter Pan wanted to be a boy most of all, and never could she stand in his way. She had to get to Charles and leave, just like Tink had said. No matter what she felt for the golden boy, he could never and would never return her feelings in full. _'Never.'  
_  
She sighed below her breath and curved her lips in a polite smile, rather than a loving one. "Right...Charles, that's why we are here, Peter. I'm sorry for coming in and just bothering you, but we will be needing your help."  
  
Peter gasped quietly as he lightly frowned. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting so distant? Had what just coursed between them been all in his mind? Did she really not care for him at all anymore? He felt a pain that pressed down heavily in his heart and dug deep and hollowed out his entire chest and stomach, sending hot pains throughout his body. He felt sick, but he was not. He felt like shedding tears, but they did not come. What was wrong with him?  
  
He shook his head lightly and stepped away from her, pretending he was completely well. "Yes...of course I'll help. We all will." He said as he turned towards all the boys.  
  
"Great!" Tinkerbell chimed. "As far as I know, Charles is safe. Hook wants to use him as bait for you Peter, so he will not harm him." She was hoping Peter would announce a full force attack on the Jolly Roger to quickly free Charles and allow them to leave, all before dusk, but the look in Peter's hurting eyes told her it would not be so.  
  
Peter tried to look away from her, but how could he? She was just so lovely, and just a few feet away from him. She was not a dream, memory, or ghost. He pressed his right hand against his side, feeling the tiny thimble hidden inside the little brown pouch that forever hung from his waist, since the day he uncovered it from within that hidden cave. She was there, and no matter what she said or acted like, he knew that she cared, for it was the thimble that she gave him that he carried, and it was the warmth of her kiss that he forever felt on his lips. It was all for him. Of that he was sure, and nothing or no one could ever make him believe otherwise. If she didn't remember, he'd make her remember.  
  
Wendy had tried desperately to keep her eyes away from Peter, but she could not help but feel that electrifying stare that robbed her of her breath. Her gaze turned to Peter, and she could see that wicked curve on the left side of his lips reappearing as that mischievous gleam in the green of his eyes seduced her every thought. _'Why do you have to look at me like that? Why?'  
_  
"Come Wendy." He spoke softly, and the words traveled through the air and landed temptingly in her ears. Without removing his gaze from her for even a fairy's second, he took her hand in his, caressing it slightly with gentle and almost unnoticeable movements of his fingers, which simply melted her apparent indifference away. "It will be best to strike in the dark of night. Your friend will be safe until then and you can re-meet the Neverland while we wait for dusk."  
  
She wanted to say yes. She wanted to simply nod and allow the gentle pull of his hand as he lifted off into the air and led her out to the skies of his enchanting home, but she didn't. She looked to Tinkerbell, who had moved to her apartment while Peter Pan spoke, searching for her advice on what she should do.  
  
The little fairy was concerned, and it was evident in her eyes, but she nodded lightly. This was not what the eternal youth, Peter Pan, the Neverland's golden emperor needed, but it was, what Peter, the hopelessly in love boy, desired most of all.  
  
Wendy smiled as all her worries and concerns drifted from her mind like the early morning fog and nodded to Peter, who returned her warm smile with a silent sigh and his own charming curve of lip. He lifted up into the air, pulling Wendy towards him.  
  
"I believe you boys should get acquainted." He slowly pulled his eyes away from Wendy. "They have yet to experience a true battle, and will need your help before we set out." He said as he looked to Slightly and the rest. "It has apparently been quite a while since they left, so they might need to be re-introduced to a few things around here", he said as he turned his eyes to Heath.  
  
The two boys nodded and turned to each other, exchanging glances that formed a friendly understanding between two leaders of fearfully loyal men. Heath turned to Peter and his Wendy as he slowly made his way to the tunnel, and he noticed his fingers tightening around her lily white hand, as if he was afraid she would fade away from his grasp.

* * *

He took her around the island, always taking great care that no pirate's eyes ever landed on them. They soared through the clouds and amongst the trees, but did not really stop for long in any spot, for there was one place on his mind that he meant to take her to; the one place that he could never visit without feeling his heart flutter and fall heavily at the same time.  
  
He flew through the air, clutching her hand in his as she flew just a moment behind him. He turned to look at her with those seductive green orbs most of the flight, only looking forward when he absolutely needed to or else they'd crash into a tree or hillside.  
  
As they flew by the Indian Village, she looked down for a chance to see the brave Princess Tigerlili. She was there, frozen in the she-child image of her memory. Mocha skin and chocolate eyes with long raven hair and war paint strategically placed all over her lovely face. The princess waved to Peter Pan and to his strange companion. She frowned slightly as she pondered who the girl could be. She seemed familiar somehow, but no memory of ever meeting the older girl entered her mind, so she simply shrugged it off and continued on her way.  
  
Peter smiled as their destination appeared in the distance. He glanced back at Wendy, forcing her eyes up and away from the Indian Village to gaze on him. That mischievously cocky smile always weakened all of her senses to anything but him, so she did not notice when they landed gently on the floor, or when he pulled her towards the trunk of an immense tree that glittered golden against the few traces of sun light that landed upon it.  
  
He stopped in the shadows of the tree and slowly weakened the grip on her hand to a soft hold, looking down at it as he played with her delicate fingers. Their eyes met and their breathing merged again. "How much do you remember, Wendy?"  
  
"Plenty" she whispered.  
  
He turned to look at the fairy tree, the trunk of which was concealed to the light of day by the thickness of the tree tops which only allowed slivers of golden sun light passage onto the ground, creating auras of gold descending from the heavens that sparkled bright with particles of floating fairy dust and other such things. "Do you remember when we stood here?"  
  
"Of course I do." It was the very memory she saw every night.  
  
"Do you remember that I bowed to you... and you bowed to me... and I offered you my hand ... and you gave me yours?" He spoke the words in a low enticing tone that urged her to speak only in the truth from her heart.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And that you placed your other hand on my shoulder, here", he said as he moved the hand that held hers up to his shoulder and gently laid her finger tips on his skin. "...and I put my other hand on your waist, right there?" he said and he extended his free hand to the very spot he had placed it years ago, struggling to hold back his desire to run that hand along her curving side.  
  
"Yes." She sighed almost too softly for him to hear. Tears swelled beneath her eyes at the beauty of the memory he was recreating with his every motion and word, and the feel of his bare flesh against her fingertips created warm shivers down her body, making her lips part in need for a gentle kiss from his wicked lips.  
  
Her lips parted and her eyes glittered brilliantly in the sun's subtle glow, making her a vision of even greater beauty than he thought she could be. This had to work. She had to remember. He had to make her feel exactly what he was feeling. She had to need and want him as much as he needed and wanted her. He moved in closer to her, unwittingly brushing her body with his own in tease. "And that we danced, and we smiled, and we were happy?"  
  
"Yes" she said softer as her voice almost disappeared behind the sobs she held at bay.  
  
"And I..." he slowly pried his eyes away from her and stared up into the hollow between the trees, "...pushed you up into the air... and for a moment, we were there." He pointed up. "Just you and me ... and the magic of the Neverland." He looked back at her and whispered. His lips were so close to her ear, that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her tingling skin "You were happy, weren't you?"  
  
"Yes." Of course she had been. That was one of her fondest memories. A moment that he seemed to truly care for her as much as she cared for him.  
  
"Can't you be happy again?" he whispered as his eyes glazed over with both pointless hope and unwilling resignation.  
  
She sighed as the smile melted away from her lips. "Yes, I can be happy again" she said softly. "But I won't be happy, after."  
  
"Why not?" he said and paused between each sentence, forcing them into her understanding. "Here, is the magic that I know you once wanted ... and I'm sure you still crave for. I've visited your window, just like I said I would. I've listened to your stories. You always remembered your great adventure, and the wonders you saw here..." His hands moved around her body and pressed her softly against his front, "... and me. Wendy... I know you can be happy here...for eternity."  
  
"No, Peter." It was all too much, for now she did not push back tears of joy, but rather, of sorrow. He was asking her to stay, the one thing she could not do. She slowly and gently pushed away from him and looked up into his pain ridden eyes, no longer sparkling with mischief but with the sadness of his unanswered question. How could he ever understand why she could not stay? "I once wanted such things, and I will always hold them dear, but I want more...the more you are not prepared to give to me, or anyone."  
  
_'More.'_ It was that infuriating word that haunted his dreams. "Don't tell me about 'more', Wendy." He said in a morbid tone. She motioned to move away from him, but he would not allow it. He tightened his arms around her in a strong embrace, refusing to let go of his silver angel.  
  
He would not give up. He knew that Wendy was meant to stay the beauty she was. She was meant to remain the very impossible merge of silver and gold that she somehow gracefully managed to be. She was meant to stay, and he was determined to remind her, of the kiss that she promised, would forever be his.  
  
"At least...stay like this...let me hold you...just for a little while."  
  
His words and actions were not that of a child with a simple crush, or of a little boy unwilling to part from his loving mother. He searched his puzzled mind for the one that spoke those words, but he did not find him. Who ever said them, spoke and then silenced, but still forced his arms to linger around her.

Wendy knew he acted out of romantic love, but she also knew that he did not know that he did so, and so, it really meant nothing in the end. Still, she had longed to be in his arms all these years, and if she could do so right now, than why not? It would be one more memory of her golden love.

* * *

Hours later, the boys sat around the home, eating, drinking and laughing as they exchanged stories of their many adventures. Heath and Slightly quickly formed the powerful bond that two men of equally fierce loyalty and sense of duty and leadership could form. The old lost boys had given the new ones tips of battle and taught them fighting moves and proper stance for swordfight. Curly, who was the best archer of all the boys, had even helped Kip and Juni perfect their aim, using a makeshift target that they painted with crushed raspberries on the top of their table, and laid it against the wall. At the advice of Aunt Millicent, John and Michael, as well as the rest of the boys, had taken fencing and archery lessons, so their own skills would come in handy in battle, and they had tried to help the other boys, as well.  
  
Now, they simply sat around, waiting for Peter and Wendy's return. Heath and his boys felt a bit more at ease over the upcoming battle, for now they had more experienced fighters on their side. Tootles was in the middle of the anecdote of one of the many hilarious pranks they pulled on one of Wendy's hopeful suitors when Peter flew into the room with Wendy trailing behind him. Their hands barely brushed against each other as they entered the room and they both gave each other quick silent glances that seemed to speak of pain and bliss. What had gone on, between them?  
  
Peter cleared his throat and moved towards the pail of newly sharpened weapons and bows. He pulled out each sword and dagger and threw them to each one of the boys and Wendy. "Now!" he said as the mischievous smile returned to his face and the promise of an exhilarating battle made his green eyes sparkle with anticipation. "Suit up and let's go!" He turned around the room to gaze into the faces of all of his men and finally, to his Wendy. He would show her how brave and cunning he was in battle against the pirates. He would rescue her friend. He would do it all, and then, he'd make her see, that Neverland was the only place for her; that she had promised him herself and he fully intended to collect on her promise. This time, he would not let her leave so easily. This time, he swore to himself that she'd stay. He lifted his bronze sword high above in the air with full determination in his every thought. "To the Jolly Roger!" he yelled and crowed his infamous battle cry. The boys lifted their weapons in the air and crowed to the best of their abilities as Wendy clutched and rotated the blade before her eyes, staring into the elongated reflection of Peter Pan.


	12. A Plan Properly Executed

**Chapter 12: A Plan Properly Executed**

Charles sat with his back against the left wall of his cell, and quietly banged the back of his head against the wood once every hour. One whole day had passed and nothing more of his fate was known to him. The first mate had brought him his one meal: Muscat, freshly baked bread, and a tomato stew with meat that he did not wish to ask of what animal, for he was too hungry to risk being disgusted. He devoured it all except for the drink, for which he couragesly asked to be replaced with water.

Smee chuckled at that request, and asked to know his age, to which Charles replied, "Nine-teen". It was plenty old for him to drink a harder substance than water, but nevertheless, he brought it to him in a wooden goblet.

So it was not hunger or thirst that kept him from obtaining some much needed rest. It was something far more perplexing than simple needs of the flesh. It was his puzzled heart. The captain had been quite enraged when he spoke of the apparent affections he held for her, so he was sure, that he had never truly expressed them to her if he even knew about them at all, so he was relieved to think that nothing of the romantic sort had passed between the fiend and Wendy. However, if it was not him, than who?

* * *

Hook sat at his crimson throne lined with velvet fabric and the finest oak that most could ever encounter. It was quite a spectacle of elegance to the point that it was extravagance fit for a king. Such a sight that he took pride in, for there was never a time he would pass off the opportunity to imply that he had plundered that piece of valuable furniture from the very palace of a mighty emperor. But tonight, not even sitting at his plundered throne gave him peace. He sat facing the candle less corner of the room, concealing his face completely in the darkness, for the pale blue of his iris would not shine against the light of the few candles that did hover in the room. It was his custom to remain in quiet solitude during the night before he descended into slumber upon his extravagantly sheeted bed, with covers of silk and velvet from the far reaches of Asia.

Tonight, no sleep would find him, for the contorting thoughts of a ghastly origin haunted his mind. The mere thought of him and the young girl was atrocious! Sure, she carried herself with a grace and maturity that had not been seen on that cursed island for centuries, but nevertheless, she was but a little girl, at least, when they first met. What proper gentleman of his age would be perverse enough to find a girl of twelve as alluring as a full grown woman?

Once he'd left the young man's cell in a fit of rage, he stormed onto the deck, kicking buckets and wads of entwined rope and even his men who had been unfortunate enough to have lain in his path. He hurled the doors to his quarters open and announced in thunderous rage that he was not to be disturbed and their prisoner was in Smee's hands for the time being. He did not wait for any sign of compression – not that he ever did – before he slammed the doors behind him and double bolted them shut. There he stayed the rest of the night, and the whole day. No sleep yet.

It was an atrocious thought. It was. Wendy Moira Angela Darling. A name he had heard only once, and yet remained fresh in his thoughts. He closed his eyes and envisioned the lovely creature he faced in that darkened ballroom. So tall and poised, elegant and refined, with emerging womanhood in her delicate limbs and figure, yet traces of the girl she was, in the shine of her hair and that hurtful stare she gave him, like that of a pouting daughter to her overbearing father. Of course, her lips never seemed to have belonged to a girl, and he found himself wondering if they ever had at all. There was something in the corner of her mouth, was it the right or the left? It was something...wonderful...

He gasped and quickly opened his eyes, shooting forward in his seat until his raven locks flowed heavily before his face. What had he been thinking!? How did that image creep into his thoughts?

No, it was nothing of the sort! It was not her he truly wanted. It was what she had given to Peter Pan. A precious gift, he was sure it was. That helped him snatch victory from his hook and hand. The anger and disappointment he had felt that night. The defeat and loneliness, at the sight of her hovering above him, and granting him her one kiss. It was knowing that Peter Pan, an immature and incomplete being, owned a treasure as precious as all the loot in the hidden caves of the Madagascar. It was knowing, that even in his cursed eternal youth, Pan had managed to obtain the beauties of adulthood that not even he, in his damned elder age, had ever known as his own.

Once more, the boy had mocked him. _"Old, alone, and done for."_ The old by itself was obvious, and not truly of horror to him, but it was accompanied by the alone which deeply spurned him and brought about the done for. At least before, although they had been blood enemies, they shared the alone, for no arms held either one during their tremulous nights and no gently brush of hand hushed the phantom whispers of their fears. In that, they had been equals. In that, they had been connected. In that he had felt some comfort and perhaps, even peace.

"The Cap'n said to not disturb him!" came the distant frightened cry from Billy Jukes.

Hook listened to the wails of the pirates and the frantic stomping on wooden boards.

"Do not be a fool!" cried Starky as his voice traveled closer to Hook's door. "'Tis that devil boy!"

It was finally time. "Cap'n! It is Pan! We are under attack!"

Hook slowly rose to his feet and brushed his hand down his blouse. A most depraved smile licked at his lips. Peter Pan would be his equal again. He would be his equal in so many ways. It be so, and then, he'd run the proud youth through with the very hook he granted him.

* * *

Peter hovered around the un-drawn sails of the ship as his boys shot out from all angles of the night, hollering their Indian battle cries, waking those pirates who had dozed off in frightful panic.

Wendy hovered to his side with both pixies next to her, clutching her sword in an oddly expert hold, which Peter did not note. "Hook! Come out and greet me, you foul reeking cod fish!" he taunted and laughed merrily, obviously enjoying himself like he hadn't in quite the time. Wendy by his side again, and Hook returned from the bowels of hell. All was well again.

He turned to Tink and said, "You are to take Wendy down below deck and help her get their friend out and to safety." He looked to Wendy. "We'll take care of the pirates," and took off into the battle, his sword already out and drawn to strike at Alf Mason.

"Snowchime!" Tinkerbell called out for the young fairy's attention.

"Yes!" she instantly rushed before her.

"Stay with they boys. Aid them in battle. Be their protector. Make sure no harm comes to any of them."

Snowchime stood erect and saluted Tinkerbell before flying to Heath's side. She could not be happier to carry out those orders, for since the day she burst alive from the laughter of her child, she wanted to be what Tinkerbell was. What fun it would be to aid Peter Pan's lost boys in battle! It would be a most enjoyable pretend to be his most trusted fairy!

Tink turned to Wendy and signaled for her to follow. They flew down into the cellar of the ship without any difficulty, just as a most fearsome howl pierced through the roar of battle.

"Pan!"

The voice thundered through the air and silence engulfed the ship as all eyes landed on the wide open doors of the Captain's quarters.

With one hand raised before Alf Mason, who had frozen in mid strike by Hook's growl, Peter stared with eyes that twinkled with lust for a clash of steel with his most worthiest opponent. That wicked turn of the corner of his lip rose and no more concern with the simpleton pirate hovered in his mind, for all he could think of now, was Hook.

"Hook." He stood just feet away from him. No ghostly apparition or tainted night vision. It was he, his most bitter enemy, and from his spot, he looked to be of flesh and bone.

The pirate slowly walked from the open doorway of his chambers; their eyes never breaking the silent battle of wills they always played. They circled around each other, Peter's sword out and ready and Hook's hand on his own, still un-drawn.

Peter's eyes looked, but it was his mind that truly saw. Battles of old with the man that stood before him. The wailing cry he let out when he felt the throb of pain from the stump that used to hold his right hand. The evil blue of his eyes with the swirl of red that bled through that one night. _"Incomplete". _But to the side of all those memories, a notion stood whispering into his ear. Something was off. Something was not quite right. What was it? Why?

Peter lifted lightly into the air, to which Hook quickly objected, "You would not dare to rob our reunion with your impertinent flight, would you Pan?"

"But of course!" Peter said, still grinning wildly "'Tis the way it was, and the way it will be!"

"Come now, Pan!" Hook pleaded with dignity. "I met you on your grounds last meeting. I'd say that it is your turn to meet me on mine."

Peter laughed merrily as he recalled the grand fight high up in the clouds. It was true that Hook had fought on his turf on that instant, and it was only fair to fight on his this time around.

"You are quite right, you old codfish." He landed his feet gently on the floor and rummaged through the drawers in his mind to quickly tuck away all his happy thoughts. "There, no flying for the moment."

Hook grinned. It was all as he thought it would be. "Then, let us pick up, where we left off!" he cried and swung his hook at Peter's chest. The boy easily avoided the blow and met it with his sword. And so, their battle continued, with words of insult and gleefully hateful stares.

The clang of their swords resounded through the ship and seized part of each pirate and boys' attention while still in their own struggles. "Tell me Pan." Hook said as he glanced around his ship. "I see your men have aged."

"Aye Cap'n, against my better judgment, they decided to return to the mainland." He said as he struck at Hook.

Hook blocked the blows. "I see they are all accounted for...and new ones!" He struck at Pan.

"Aye," Peter replied and returned the strike.

"And the Darling boys." A block and then another blow.

"Aye." A dodge from his steel and another from his hook before he swung his sword at Hook's incomplete arm.

"But tell me...where is the fair Wendy?" he said as he pushed Peter's blade away with his own.

He could not reply. He was sure that she and Tinkerbell were still below deck, searching through the gallows for the prisoner, and so, he could not disclose their whereabouts.

"She's about." He answered and lunged his sword again to be met by Hook's own.

"Now, now, Peter. Do you think me so naïve as to not know why it is you came? And that she", he glanced around again, "and Miss Bell are presently unshackling my prisoner?"

"I'd guess not, Captain." Peter said as he smiled vividly. A few more blows in silence, and Hook decided that it was time to begin his devious plot.

"I'd implore you to ask _your_ Wendy of her relationship with this _handsome_ young man." He said in between strikes.

"He's a friend." He said as their swords were forced against each other again.

They pushed back upon their weapons and parted by a couple of feet or so. Hook smiled his most wicked smile and thrust his sword upon Peter again, who skillfully dodged his upper body to the right and meet the strike with the back of his sword, locking them again in a pointless struggle.

"Not to you, I can assure you." Hook spoke with the calm of the gentle night sea that hid the murderous creatures of its depths with the lovely whispers of its soothing waves.

"Just what are you striving to get at?!"

"A gentleman never speaks of things that are not of his concern! That would be bad form!"

Peter grew tired - or infuriated - at his sly implies so he lunged his sword directly above his head with all his might, but Hook caught the blow with his sword and took the opportunity that he was now gazing directly into his hardened eyes to smile wickedly into his understanding.

"Dear Pan, how long has she been away?"

Peter huffed, but answered through clenched teeth "A few years I'd say".

"How long did you expect her to feel for a boy like you, when she in fact, has grown quite away from the girl she was?"

"She is not yet fully grown!"

"Tis true, I guess" Hook replied with innocence in his conniving words.

Peter struck at Hook with all his might. A blow to his right. A blow to his left. A thrust of his sword and Hook's blade was thrown back. A spin as Hook pulled his sword forward against the steel clash.

* * *

Below deck, Wendy ran at her fastest pace, guided by Tinkerbell's light as she dodged through the many tiny prison cells that lined the passage way.

The rumble of footsteps and hollering cries alerted Charles to the battle above deck. He listened intently for a voice to judge whether the attackers were friend or foe to him, and heard a jingle and the melodious voice of his beloved Wendy.

"Tink! Where is he?"

He shot up and ran to the door but was yanked back almost unto his rear by the pull of his chains. "Wendy!" he cried out.

"Charles!" she returned as she came upon his door and stood upon her tipy-toes to gaze into his darkened cell.

"Wendy! You shouldn't have come! You should not be anywhere near that man!"

Tinkerbell rushed into the lock of the cell's door and both could hear her tinkering with its mechanisms.

"I had to come! It was all my fault!"

A clanking spring echoed in the lock and Tinkerbell emerged brushing off her outfit. "Lock's unlocked" she chimed to Wendy, who nodded and quickly pushed the door open.

Tinkerbell did not waste a second and quickly went to work on Charles's locks who was too dumfounded at the sight of tiny golden lady to say anything at all.

"Charles!" Wendy said as she walked into the cell and looked him over by Tinkerbell's miniscule glow. She smiled calmly. "You are not harmed, right?"

"No...I'm fine." He whispered softly, half due to mere pleasure of seeing Wendy again and half due to his fleeting voice at the sight of the pixie.

The shackles released their hold on his wrists and dropped to the floor with a harsh thud. He rubbed the aggravated skin around his wrists and walked to Wendy, throwing his arms around her. "I am glad to see you! But honestly?!" he cried and moved his hands to Wendy's arms to push her away and gaze into her face. "Why put yourself in danger?! You were supposed to stay home, safe and away from any harm!"

"I wasn't in any harm!" she said as she wiggled out of his hold. "My friend would never allow anything horrible to happen to me! Besides! I've been in more dire predicaments than this!"

"So I've been told!" he said and suddenly remembered they shared the room with a fairy. "There are" he stared at Tinkerbell and struggled to push the words out of his throat, "so many things I did not know about you."

Wendy frowned a hurtful glare. "Does that disappoint you?" she asked in a challenging tone.

"No!" Charles cried and returned his perfect blue eyes to Wendy. "Not at all. You are just more magical than I thought you were."

The lines on Wendy's brow softened at the sound of his endearing words and the honey sweet gaze he bestowed upon her. That was Charles. So caring and compassionate.

"I'd hate to break this up," Tink chimed in exasperation and broke between their frozen stares, "but we have to get going!" She turned to give Wendy a nudging glance with a tilt of her head, which made an earlier plan return to the girl's attention.

"Charles", she said, "I can not give you the whole explanation right now, but please, just put your trust in my words." She paused for a sign of comprehension from him, and continued, "You are not to say anything about you and me until we return home. We are no more than friends while we remain in this land, all right?"

Creases appeared on his soft face as he narrowed his eyes in deep concern. "Why?" Was she ashamed of him?

"Please" she said and placed the palm of her left hand on his right cheek. "Just trust me. It's of great importance."

Not speak of their affections for each other? What good could come from that? But still, he trusted her, and knew she would not lie, so he adhered to her request. "As you say, my...I mean..." he sighed and held back the term of endearment he was about to call her, "Wendy."

She smiled sweetly at his extreme understanding. He was truly a great man.

He returned her warm smile and gaze, and extended his right hand to her. "May I have the sword?"

She hesitated as she glanced at his hand, but did as he asked. She lowered her grip on the handle and moved it towards him. He took the blade in his right hand and took her hand in his left. "Let's go", he said and hurried out the room with Tinkerbell leading the way.

Wendy pointed to the left and up the stairs they went, their pounding footsteps slowly drowned out by the clash and cries of the full blown battle between the lost boys and the pirates.

* * *

The boys fought on, and Snowchime glided from lost boy to lost but now found boy, kicking and pulling the hair of the opposing pirates, intervening every time a man had the upper hand on any of the boys. But there was one battle she was not to aid in, that of the Captain and the Pan.

Sparks flew at every strike of blade against blade. Their footwork, skillful and maneuvered with perfection, seemed like a beautiful dance of the clashing reunion of a long awaited bond. This is the way it was, and should have always been. Hook and Peter Pan. Peter Pan and Hook. One was not truly, without the other.

Their steels met again in a lock of strength, and Peter and Hook gazed into each other's eyes, feuding with their wills as well. Hook faced the stern of the ship and Peter noticed his grin turn more sinister as his gaze focused behind him. Carefully, Peter turned to look behind him and saw Tink's golden glow jittering above the opening to the depths of the ship, and a young man rising forth from its stairs with Wendy trailing behind him.

Nothing too upsetting, except, that he held her hand, and it was not as Wendy did when she led the boys to their beds.

Hook slowly and cautiously relaxed the lock of swords, allowing Peter's eyes to rest on the two as the young man stepped in front of her to strike at the pirate who had lunged his sword at them. He did so and Peter did not notice for his entire senses were deeply submerged in vexing thoughts. Hook grinned maniacally, for there was so much anger that Hook had yet to see in Peter's eyes. An anger that festered not from hate, but from its most dangerous contradiction: love. But in that moment, he saw the green flicker in his eyes and it was not the green of his iris, but the green of jealousy. Before Pan would meet his end by his hook, he would suffer indignities that no child should ever know.

Hook backed slowly, and Peter unintentionally dropped his sword to his side.

"Odd, how he holds her hand tightly in his own." Hook made to strike at Peter, but with half his speed and determination, so as to only grasp part of his attention. Peter quickly raised his sword horizontally across his face to block the blow, glancing back to Hook.

"It's to make sure she does not stumble upon peril." That was all it was.

Hook raised his eyebrows and nodded his head lightly in false acceptance of his explanation, so as to mean 'That could be it.' Peter pushed back the pirate's sword with all his might, forcing their steal to part again. Once at a safe distance from each other, Hook turned to look at Wendy and Charles with a mockingly pretend perplexed expression on his face.

"Strange isn't it, Peter", guided by Hook's puzzled eyes, Peter turned yet again, to look at Wendy and the boy who still shielded her from all adversaries with his own body, "how he seems so anxious for her safety."

"Of course he is" Peter quickly replied without tearing his eyes away from them. "She is a lady, and we gentleman are always to protect a lady."

"Oh, yes!" Hook cried. "How silly of me to think differently."

Peter turned his eyes back on Hook and allowed his right arm, which held his sword, to once again drop to his side. He stared at the conniving pirate with glaring eyes for a second, while so many questions and pangs of emotions he did not know pounded at the door of his understanding, announcing their presence but frightening him too much to answer just yet. "What is the different, you thought?"

Hook smiled triumphantly. "It is as if", he paused allowing a silence until his final statement to fully grasp all of Peter's attention, and then continued "he has taken your place."

Each word pricked at his heart with the sharpness of an Indian's poison dart. His eyes widened and the wind refused to breath into his chest. He turned his eyes to Wendy, who felt the hurtful stare from Peter and turned to meet his eyes. She could not hear above the clang of steel and the hollering of the battle, the words that passed between Hook and Peter, but she could see the sparkles of tiny explosions in his eyes, as if shots had been fired into his soul. She saw the grin on Hook's wicked lips and she could almost taste the poison with which he had spoken, for the air was dense with it.

She feared the worst, and realized that perhaps, allowing Charles' hand to hold her own might not have been as innocent as she thought it seemed. Slowly, she slipped her hand away from Charles, who was too busy fending off Albino to notice that it was her and not him who released the hold.

"To protect her, I mean." Hook sneered. "To defend her, that is all I say."

"To protect her" he repeated below his breath, eyes still on Wendy and Charles "That is all."

It was done. Hook and planted the seed of doubt in Wendy's promise and there was nothing more to do now but wait and see the storms to come.

With Pan's every sense still controlled by the sight of Wendy, Hook motioned with the most subtle of flickers from his one hand for Starky to advance, to which the pirate quickly nodded in understanding. He stepped in front of Pan and made to slice through his neck, causing Peter to quickly regain his consciousness and lift up into the air.

Peter turned to Hook as the Captain acted the part of an infuriated beast of prey watching the pigeon that was to be his meal about to fly away. "A battle between you and me, I'd keep my word to remain on the ground, but your man has broken the agreement and so, another day!"

"Pan!" he cried with fake fury in his eyes, but Peter had already turned away and was in hurried flight towards Wendy and the young man. Hook could not help but smile at his own devious cunning.

Wendy watched him as he quickly closed the distance between them. _'Just keep calm'_, she told herself. Peter crowed and the pirate turned to face him and lifted his sword at him, too slowly though, for Pan's blade sliced at his arm, making him fall back in pained cries with crimson blood staining the wooden floor.

With the pirate out of the way, Peter reached out for Wendy's hand and lifted her up into the air. If anyone was to hold her hand to help her flee, it would be him! "Tink!" he yelled, and the fairy rushed to sprinkle a dumbfounded Charles who stared intently at Peter's hand around Wendy's.

"Hurry, man!" he yelled with no real urgency for him to comply, "Think your happy thoughts and fly!"

"What?" Charles asked as he glanced at Wendy's worried face.

"Think thoughts that make you cheerful and they will lift you into the wind!" she insisted.

"Do it or we leave you behind!" Peter cried out with a spiteful glare as he lifted himself up higher, pulling Wendy away from Charles.

Charles turned to see Hook slowly coming at them, and closed his eyes and thought of a happy thought he had been eagerly waiting to be reality for quite some time. Instantly, his feet lifted off the ground and shot up into the air, much to Peter's displeasure, which he did not bother to hide at all and was evident in his sneer.

He turned away from the young man and crowed loudly, signaling their retreat to all the boys who immediately delivered final blows to ease their flight from their individual battles and lifted up into the sky and towards the island.

"Pan!" Hook wailed as Peter took off into the dark with Tinkerbell pulling Charles along. "We are not done yet boy! This is far from over!" he chuckled wickedly.

"Far...from over", Hook repeated with the evil grin on his face and turned to face his men. "Good job, you filthy dogs."

"But cap'n" Billy Jukes cried as he stood by Long Tom, "we can still get them! The fairy's glow will be our target!"

"No!" Hook yelled. "They were to succeed tonight. For it will be my turn, soon enough."

In deed, it had seemed that way, for the men had previously been ordered to not use their revolvers at all against the brats, and to leave the path to Charles' cell wide open. It had been a plan, perfectly executed. But, had any of the boys or Wendy noticed


	13. Another in Your Place

**Author's Note: **

The length of Wendy and her brother's stay in Neverland is never truly stated in either the novel or the 2003 movie, although the novel makes it seem as so much longer than just the 2 days the movie shows. For this story, I have chosen to go with the novel's estimate of time, because it allows for more history between Peter and Wendy.

Sorry...I would have replied to the reviews, but that would have meant stalling the chapter even more.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Another in Your Place **

Neverland is not grand in size. Granted, there is so much to see and do there, but it is all compact into a tiny piece of land that hovers in the dead center of a shimmering ocean that houses deep dangers and wonders of its own. So, knowing that, it is obvious that it only took Peter and the rest a few minutes to reach their haven, which did not allow ample time for Peter to subdue his 'anger' enough, to speak politely with the young man traveling with them.

He never once released his tight squeeze on Wendy's hand, and he never once missed any of the subtle exchange of glances between her and the young man. Once, the man was even bold enough to hold his stare for several seconds at a time to which she returned it but quickly looked away, as if she had something to be ashamed of by merely allowing Peter's finger to grasp around her own.

Fully enthralled and excited over their resent battle, none of the boys noticed the odd tension amongst the three. Heath and his men were intoxicated with their first taste of war and Slightly and the rest were simply giddy with the memories that the battle had awakened. However, there was one that always knew exactly what was happening within Peter Pan, and that was his fairy, Tinkerbell.

Neverland is a mystical land, obviously, but what many do not quite understand is how it is that Peter is joined to her. She changes with his moods, for she is empathetic to his heart, however, the changes are not so very noticeable, except to those who truly pay attention. Right then, in that moment in flight, Wendy could feel the heat rising through his skin, and she knew it was an anger that he felt. But, Tink, who was no where near enough to feel his heat, still knew his emotion better than her, for she could feel the night's cool autumn air casually warming up into a summer's dry wind. At this point, she decided it was best to speed up and pull Charles along farther ahead of the group, and so, he was at the entrance of the underground home a minute or so before the rest.

The boys landed on the ground followed immediately by Peter, who gently helped Wendy to the ground before he planted his own feet amongst the tall grass, and finally released her hand to put his sword away.

"All accounted for?" He did not look to anyone in particular when he asked his question, but Heath and Slightly were quick to reply in unintentional unison, "All here."

With that business out of the way, he then turned his cold eyes to Charles, "I believe you should introduce me to your friend, Wendy."

She looked at Peter with a troubled pause and said, "This is Charles Terwood, a friend from school. He is actually quite fond of John and the boys. They are great friends. Is that not true?" she asked and looked to John.

"Oh, yes...quite good friends." John said as he moved over towards Charles and patted him on the back. "I love this chap", he stated passionately as his smile spread from ear to ear.

Charles looked to Wendy, who pled him with her deeply drawn eyes to follow in their charade, and then to John. The reason for the obvious cover up slowly formed in his thoughts; but still, he smiled and placed an arm around the boy. "Yes! Great friends, we are!"

Wendy sighed gently and smiled a sweet closed lip smile to Charles. _'Thank you'_

Peter kept his eyes on Charles, scrutinizing every inch of his tall body. He seemed to be older than Wendy by at least three years, and every word and motion of his spoke of maturity beyond a child. He did not like the look of him at all, for he could sense that this man held a strong fascination for Wendy.

"Well then", Peter said, "Now that your _friend_ is safe, we can have ourselves a merry celebration!"

But Tinkerbell was quick to intervene and rushed to Peter's face and argued against that idea in her native fey.

"Go back?!" Peter exclaimed. "Why should they leave so quickly?! They barely arrived and there is so much fun to be had!"

Tinkerbell shook her head and chimed in infuriated objection. Peter was making it quite hard to keep it all hushed.

"Well, if he has to leave, let nothing stop him." He said as he momentarily glanced a wicked eye to Charles. "I can have Snowchime assist him home."

"I will not leave without Wendy!" he quickly retorted. Peter flashed him an angry sneer as Wendy's eyes rounded in dread, which Charles noted and added in response, "... and the boys."

But Peter was not fooled, and his attention wrapped around the passionately spoken segment of his statement, _'Not without Wendy.'_ There was definitely a tension in the air and although he knew not what it truly was, he knew he did not like the feel of it at all. "Wendy", he turned to her and took her hand once again, "Give me the pleasure of accompanying me on a stroll...I fear it will be quite stuffy inside the underground home with so many...boys around."

Tinkerbell had been quite good for a while now, but things were not going as she had planned, and such a tiny little creature can only harbor such a tiny amount of goodness. She turned bright red and screamed, in her fey, such nasty naughty things that have no expression in English.

"Tink!" Peter cried, "Do not argue with me! Take them into the home and remain there! That is a direct order!"

Tinkerbell huffed her frustration into subjugation, chimed a few more insults and kicked the air in Peter's direction. She had tried her best to make the whole potentially destructive situation as easy as possible for the boy, but he was obviously not having it so!

Charles stared at Wendy with questioning eyes, unsure of whether to permit the leaf clad boy to lead her into the woods, un-chaperoned and so late into night, but he did not object, for Wendy never once did so herself. Instead, he simply kept his eyes on Wendy, noting every nerve-ridden fidget of her slender fingers and slight nibbling of her lower lip, the two things she did whenever she was uneasy. He did so, even as the tiny fairy grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards the tree, turning quickly only to chime, "You heard him!" to the boys.

They all looked to each other – a habit they seem to have, as if the boy next to him was not as confused as he himself - and then to Wendy and the two. Tinkerbell let go of the collar to kick the little mushroom growing out of the tree's thick trunk, which split the bark apart to reveal a darkened tunnel. With frightful anger in her tiny face, she shoved Charles down and into the tunnel slide. "Woah!" he let out a surprised cry as his boots disappeared into the abyss.

"Boys!" she chimed extremely loud, making them flinch and walk into the other entrances. Once she heard the swooshing sound of twelve bodies plummeting down, she chimed words in fey to which the young blue fairy quickly replied by flying into the open tunnel where Tinkerbell hovered. Now but three remained outside and Tinkerbell finally turned to face Peter and chimed with anger still in her tone before flying into the tree and closing the door behind her.

"Come on, Wendy." Peter said and tugged at her hand slightly as he led them into the woods.

"What did Tink say?" she asked.

They stepped into the shadows of the tall evergreens, the path before them cloaked in glittering dark. The only sounds heard where those of the Neverbirds wings gliding through the night's winds and the gentle twinkling of the silver stars above. "It is of no importance."

* * *

The entire island was his playground, and he could go anywhere he pleased; but for those times when he simply wished to be alone, he had only three places in particular he frequented. One, and an obvious one, was the old underground home, but now that Hook was definitely back, he knew that he would have to give up his visits to that place, or risk being ambushed during his pensive spells.

Another place, he resided when he was plagued by nightly tremors and he would wake in a frightful sweat, gasping and wide eyed with no recollection of the apparent horrifying visions. It was Wendy's little house, tucked away high in the brush of trees. Of course for most of those years, he had forgotten the significance of the tiny cottage, but still, he always felt at peace within its red walls and so, he would spent many a night inside it, with the sweet breeze whistling through the woven vines an leafs, lulling him to sleep. It was his most secret spot, for only Tinkerbell and a few other fairies new of it. It was the one place that forever smelled of the girl's delicate scent.

The third place was the Fairy Grove, which was an enchanting view on the nights the fey would meet in gay festivities. On said nights, he would opt to sit to the side of the golden tree and watch as the fairies danced their graceful waltz. Before the treasure, he would simply watch in bewildering awe, but after it was found, he would see himself and Wendy in the tiny figures of the Fairy King and Queen.

But he did not head to any of those spots. He really had no destination in mind, for all he had planned was to have Wendy for himself for just a while at least. He had missed her ever so much, even when he had no vivid memory of her, and he did not feel like sharing her attention for long with anyone else, especially to the man that looked at her with such odd eyes that made Peter want to reach for his dagger every time.

They walked on, no reasoning in their step and no need in their stride. It was just a stroll with no purpose, other than simply to remain in each other's company. Truly, it would have been a perfect memory, filled with melodious silence and serene caresses of the gentle breeze which was once again a cool autumn wind, except that Peter was never one to keep quiet for long, especially when he recalled his earlier promise to himself. "Wendy", he said, breaking the spellbinding silence and bringing her back from the perfect world they had strolled in. She turned to look into his face, but it was mostly concealed by the glittering dark still. "How long has it been?"

She inhaled a deep solemn breath. "Four years, Peter."

'_Four years.'_ It was as he had estimated. "It has been quite a while now, has it not?"

"I suppose so. You did not come back. I use to wait by the window." She chuckled lightly. "I would even fall asleep on the floor next to it, with your name on my lips."

His lips curved into a cocky grin, which Wendy still could not see, but it soon faded as her words replayed in his mind. _"Use to wait_."

"You stopped waiting though."

"You did not come back."

"You closed your window."

Wendy did not take the next step, but rather stood still, halting their stroll. "How do you know it was closed?"

"I forget things easily....that is just me." He stated as a law of nature. "But I did remember...eventually...and I did go back..."

A silent smile slipped unto Wendy's lips, but soon faded. "If you had really wanted to keep your promise...you would have entered anyway. Since when does Peter Pan care if a window is locked or even closed?"

Peter stalled in silence, as her question made him ponder his own actions. It was true. So many windows where locked shut, but never did that stop him from barging in anyway. Why had he not done so with her window?

"Why was it closed?" he finally asked.

Now it was Wendy who stalled in silence. "Because, I gave up in thinking that you would remember. I knew you would forget. You have so many adventures; it would be hard for you to keep track of them all."

"Yes, that is true" he said with forced carelessness. "There was much that kept me busy. New pirates to prank and new lost boys to lead. Always much fun to be had here."

Wendy smiled sadly to herself. The boy could forget with such tragic ease. She felt like such a fool, to entertain, even for the smallest fleeting moment, the idea that Peter Pan had truly felt for her, like she felt for him. Without her, he was free, even if he grew taller and his shoulders wider, he was still a boy, and she...a growing young lady.

After more silence, Peter tugged at her hand and they continued on their stroll, but soon, Wendy came to another halt as she caught a glimpse of the brightest white seen even through the dim dark. "What is that?" she asked, and pulled away from Peter's hand to reach the object that had grasped her attention. He instantly missed the warmth of her hand.

She bent down above the bushes and closed in upon the vibrant color, which she could now tell was flowers. Beautiful fully bloomed white roses.

"How lovely..."she sighed "I was not aware that roses grew in Neverland!"

'_Roses?'_ Peter gasped quietly and heard a taunting voice coming from behind. _"White roses on her nightstand...from the one that has taken your place!"_

He clutched the handle of his sword as he spun around in alert, but he saw no towering sinister figure and heard no threatening slither of the grass. Could he be hiding still and quietly amongst the green?

"Peter?" Wendy heard the ruffling of the grass below his feet as he jerked about. She turned around to see his hand resting upon his blade as he slowly bobbed his head from side to side. What was he searching for in the shrubbery? "Peter?" she called out for him again and moved back to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What is the matter?"

He turned his gaze down towards her delicate hand, his thoughts seduced away from the taunting voice. No, Hook was not there, it was just his truth that hovered in the air. He removed his hand from the sword and brushed her fingers with his own. He turned around and searched through the dark for a chance to gaze into her face. That lovely face that his memory could never recreate in the bewitching colors of her silky crème skin, truest crystal blue eyes, soft peach tint of her cheeks, and sweet cheery lips. Truly, the colors of her face had become more pronounced since her stay, and although she was more of a pleasing sight now, she was also a rather frightening one.

Such was the riddle of her and him. So young and free did he feel when near his Wendy, but also, was the frightful growing need for something _more_.

"_She wants to be complete"_ came the voice again, but Peter only slightly flinched for this time, he knew only he heard it.

"Wendy..." he said softly. "You will not stay...will you?"

She shook her head. "No..."

He huffed the air in and out of his lungs as fast as he could. He was determined to kill as many of them as he could before she would become one herself. "So, you truly only came back ... for your friend?"

"Yes" She nodded.

"Who is he, Wendy?" he quickly pushed the question out, afraid to lose the courage to ask.

Wendy's heart raced and she began to nibble at her lower lip again. "I have already told you" she said, trying hard to brush the question off. "Charles Terwood. Son of Sir......."  
  
But Peter shook his head and cut her off. "No...Wendy...who is he?"

She did not respond, but her eyes spoke of the true relation between her and the man. If there had been enough light, Peter would have seen his answer in her saddened blues, but as it was it seemed that his mother land tried to shield his heart from a pain, cloaking her in dark. That is, until suddenly she seemed to give in and say, "If you are to know, than so be it", for a soft wind slowly picked up and blew the tree tops apart, allowing the tiniest sliver of silver to grace part of her face; the bottom part.

Peter gasped and took a shaky step back as his widened eyes focused on the right hand corner of her lip. There, should be a whispered calling of his name, a silent promise that no matter when he would finally return to her window, he would find it unlocked and ever welcoming. But it was not so anymore. The kiss was there, but his name was not. In its place was a piercing cry for another.

The wind grew icy cold as a tiny rain tear fell from the graying clouds above, unto Peter's cheek. Another tear fell onto her shoulder, followed by two more onto the ground between them. "Wendy...is...he...husband?"

"I do not know" she whimpered. "...most likely...yes...Peter..." and quickly added, "I'm sorry..."

More tears fell from the heavens, covering the trees and ground with lament. Peter huffed quick and groggy sobs, trying with all his might to hold them at bay. He shielded his reddening eyes with his right forearm as his chest heaved in chocking whimpers.

"Peter", she whispered again, but the boy would not reply. She took a step closer to him and reached out for his cheek, but he suddenly threw his arm down, hindering her touch and stared at her with such hardened defying eyes that burned with disdain.

"I should have left that thimble buried under my Neverland forever!" he yelled through clenched teeth and turned around and ran a few feet before shooting off into the air with a leap that crushed the grass below his feet. It was as should have been expected, and it was as somewhere deep down a voice said it would be. She had gone home to grow up and live her life...a life without him.

The path before him was blurred by tears; that of his eyes and that of clouds. He flew off, determined to put as much distance between himself and her. Never should he have peeked in through her window on that first night. Never should he have returned for more stolen glimpses of the story teller with eyes of sapphire. He should have acted on his original decision to cast her thimble into the flaming sun, instead of simply hiding it under the island.

"Peter" she cried out again into the mournful night. His name echoed through the shimmering rain and reached his ears, but he would not turn back around. He could not bear to see his forgotten kiss upon her lip.

"Peter" she whispered. "I am sorry... I must grow up, but...I am even more sorry, that you feel...that you must not."

Wendy stayed behind, at first, simply watching the spot in the sky where his figure had disappeared. But when her knees gave in to the sadness of her heart, she sat down next to the white roses, and buried her face in her hands, allowing the tears to flow with ease. She soon grew tired of the feel of pity, though; pity for her unanswered love and pity for the boy that refused to grow up. She removed her hands from her face and breathed in the crisp night air. Her eyes landed upon the white rose, and she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Now, this would have been the end of her golden adventure, and the very last time she ever saw Peter Pan, for she had made up her mind to return to the underground home and collect her boys and flee back down to London, determined to never return to a world meant for such simpler things and days. It was her will to do so, but you see, sometimes our will controls our destiny, and sometimes our destiny controls our will, and then there are those other times when will has been gagged, tied and stuffed into a sealed treasure chest, buried several feet below ground.

With another sigh, she stood up, and started on her way through the forest in search of the new underground home, but she soon found herself lost, for she knew not exactly where it was located, and Peter had led her around the forest in unintelligible circles. She was about to give up her pointless search in the dark and lay to rest and wait for daylight when she caught sight of bittersweet memories.

The Fairy Grove.

She was half imposed to simply turn away, but before she could even decide, she found her feet moving her closer to the tree.

The melody of the fairy waltz still whispered in the soft wind and the thick of the treetops still hindered the bit of light from the sky, although now, it was streams of silver and not glows of gold that lit glittering dark. She allowed her mind to drift in happier moments, consciously choosing to forget the sadder ones. As she neared the tree, she noticed a crouched darkened figure moving against the trunk. Through the dim lit night, she saw two eyes, blue as forget me nots, looking entrancingly at her.

"Miss Darling..."

Any other time, she would have cried out Peter's name, and every other time, she had done just so, knowing that that was all she need to do for the boy to quickly come and save her from any harm. He could always here her cry, and he rather cherished being the hero of her story. No matter where he was in Neverland, he quickly rushed to her aid – mind you though; he never was truly far from her anyway. But tonight, his name did not pass through her lips, but rather, lingered in her throat. Perhaps it was guilt that held her tongue, or perhaps, it was the notion that now and after, her cry would go unanswered.

"Hook..."

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	14. Nib's Tale of White Rat

**Chapter 14: Nib's Tale of White Rat**

It truly was crowded in the underground home, even though it was substantially larger than the old one, twelve boys and one young man did barely fit.

Charles had been quite upset with the leaf-clad boy. So insolent and possessive of Wendy, not to mention obviously rude towards his person. "Tell me, Nathan", he said to Nibs after all had settled into their own nooks and where engrossed in rowdy conversations. "What is going on?"

"Where do you wish me to begin?" Nibs replied with a slight chuckle.

"Where ever Wendy's connection with the boy begins."

"Oh...I really doubt I am of authority to tell of such a thing."

"Then, simply tell me of whatever you are of authority to tell."

Nibs bit his lower lip and shifted his eyes to the side. "Well...it is quite a story...and you must promise to believe it all..."

Charles chuckled lightly. "Well..." he sighed. "I was abducted by pirates, tossed into the cellar of a flying ship...and I believe just flew with the assistance of a pixie..."

"Fairy" Nibs corrected. "Tink is a fairy...not a pixie. She's quite particular about that."

"Fairy then," he said and shook his head lightly with a smile on his lips. "I think I am willing to believe anything you say, otherwise, I would have to admit to the loss of my sanity."

"I suppose so." Nibs said, smiling wistfully.

"So...go ahead...but first, what do you prefer, "Nibs" or Nathan?"

"Either one will do really...mother and father allowed us to keep our names, but when we where legally placed under their care, they gave us proper ones of our own choosing...so...like I said....either one will do."

"All right then, Nathan ...wh..."

"No..." Nibs quickly interrupted. "I take that back...call me Nibs."

Charles snickered. "Nibs then...proceed."

And so, Nibs told Charles most of what he could remember. He started with his most earliest – if he could even get the order of events correct – memory, which was of how Tink and Peter had brought each one of them to Neverland, like so many others they were sure, although those had gone before their own arrival. He told him of Wendy's alluring bed-time stories and how Peter Pan would go to her window in search of them almost every night, until the day that he not only brought them a story, but the story-teller herself and her two brothers. He mentioned that he truly was not aware how long Wendy and the boys stayed on the island, but he was sure it was quite a while, for the memories of majestic adventures were plenty, even if most had already been claimed by Neverland's spell. He told him of the evil villainy of Hook, and recited the events of their final battle with grand accuracy, but with his greatest effort to omit much of the more delicate details, such as Wendy's hidden kiss.

"So...what is this place?" Charles asked when it was obvious that Nib's tale was done. "Neverland?"

"It is a child's paradise!" Nibs quickly retorted.

"But where are we, exactly?"

"Aww...that is a mystery even to me and I have lived here for years! The best I can tell you is...we are in the second star to the right and straight on till morning..."

Charles sighed in confusion, although such description did extend the smile on his face, as if he himself remembered that detail from time untold. "What does that mean?"

Nibs smiled mischievously. "We are...in the celestial heavens...my good Charles. And if you were to ask me to draw you a map...I could not...you see...only a few know the way...that would be the man in the sun and the Fay themselves, and they are particular as to who they show the path to. Without guidance from either one, one would simply roam the skies for eternity, searching for the star."

Charles shook his head lightly. "This is all too confusing."

"Oh...but truly it is not. It is only confusing for those that do think about it much. Why ask? Why know? Why not just enjoy?"

Charles shrugged. "That could make sense, I guess."

"Truly it does."

Charles turned to look around the room. Twelve boys, laughing, jumping, yelling and tumbling. Surely he could see the allure of such a place for any child, and yet, Wendy had chosen to leave and take her brothers with her. His respect and admiration for the girl grew larger at the thought, but then his other more troubling thought emerged again in his mind. He was well aware of his true feelings for the lovely Wendy Darling since the first day he laid eyes on her, sitting so poised and refined on the park bench, but with every inch of her body twitching inconspicuously to join her brothers in play. He knew since that day, that she was the only one for him, but once he got to know the emotion behind every glimmer in her eyes, he saw the ghost of another grasping still to her longing heart. It was this Peter Pan who still held her deepest soul and now, he had taken her away, into privacy amongst the night. His Wendy was in the company of another, the one she most likely, truly loved. Something between jealousy for the boy's possession and mourning for his all too short love affair echoed through his hollowed chest. This churn of dark emotions engulfed his whole, and he did not know weather he was to fight for her with the edge of a blade or completely denounce his own future with her, for how could he ever live knowing that his love would never love him whole?

"Charles" Nibs interrupted his somber thoughts. The marked seriousness in his tone alerted Charles to an importance to be heard and so he looked to the boy with intrigue. "Wendy is...important to us...each one of us. You are quite lucky she is obviously fond of you...otherwise, you would have been tarred and feathered by your second visit to our home."

Charles sighed. "Believe me, Nibs, I know." He looked down to the ground and mustered the proper courage to ask his query. "This, Pan... he loves her, right?"

Nibs puffed a breath of air, making the wild strands of hair before his eyes jerk upwards and away from his face. "That is...what I am of no authority to tell...remember?"

He chuckled. "That is as good as a yes answer." Why should he even ask? Knowing in completeness would only further burden his thoughts.

Nibs sighed and remained quiet, an ambiguous comment forming in his mind. "You know...I've come to understand a few things since we left, four years ago. Things we really could not know back then." He looked back to Charles, bewildered sadness evident in his eyes. "There is nothing like the feel of being alone and forgotten."

The deepness in his words grasped all of Charles' attention. "Forgotten?"

Nibs nodded and glanced into space before he began again. "There was another...long ago...I had forgotten all about him...except his name...Mouse. Pale chap...with lightest blond hair and these bucked teeth. I use to call him White Rat...when we played with the Indian children. I remember...when he asked Peter if he could go back home to his mother. Peter pretended like he did not care, and even took him home himself. But he cared. My guess is that he did so every time. He cared because he knew...he would be forgotten again."

Charles looked at Nibs' face, his features contorted by a profound sadness that he still could not completely understand. He furrowed his brow as Nibs' words rippled through his mind, trying to uncover what it was that Nibs was truly saying. "I see."

"Uh huh. You see." Nibs sucked on his lower lip and his gaze into absence became more intense. "Those of us, who left, and those of you...who never came...we are not forgotten, because we stay with those that will remember us; those who care for us and we care for them. Peter doesn't, but he deserves to be remembered too, at least, for a little while. Do you not agree?"

Charles eyes rounded somewhat, as he heard the plea hidden in Nibs' comments. So Peter Pan could never be remembered completely. He would always be forgotten. He would always be alone. Even if Wendy glanced his way and brushed her hand against his, she would never stay. She would forget as well? He looked at Nibs for a moment and sighed deeply before turning his gaze back down to the floor below his bent knees, and conceded with a slight nod of his head. "I would guess so."

Nibs smiled peacefully and patted Charles on the shoulder. "You are a good man...I am glad we never got to tar and feather you."

Charles chuckled. "I heard those ridiculous stories...Such blatant embellishments."

"Oh no..." Nibs smiled mischievously. "They were all truths. Trust me." He said as he leaned in closer. "You are truly a LUCKY man."

He looked at the boy's whimsy smile for a terrified moment and then laughed whole-heartedly.

* * *

Hours passed, and sleep pulled at the boys' eyelids, making them drop into slumber wherever they sat. It struck Charles as odd that Nibs had confided so much in him, but still he was thankful he had. At least now, he felt that he was accepted by at least one of her brothers; a foot in the door.

He, however, did not allow himself to sleep, not that he even thought he could, for he was anxiously waiting for Wendy and Peter's return, and every minute that passed, he grew even more restless. Sure, he had conceded to allow Peter any moments Wendy could and would give him, but still, he could not help feeling that horrible heat of jealousy that clutched the bottom of his heart. Nibs had obviously omitted part of the telling, such as on the final battle, where Peter seemed to have lost completely but suddenly regained his will and strength. He would not have noted the absence of verse here or there, except that Nibs was not all that great at excluding them, for he would start to say something, and quickly shake his head and start anew.

Finally, he heard a door open from the tunnel to his right, and turned to look to it, awaiting their descent, but it was only Peter that entered the room, and no Wendy.

Charles looked directly to his face, waiting for him to speak or even acknowledge him, but the boy kept his gaze down, obviously ignoring him with such telling loathing for him in his absent amber gaze.

Charles sighed and rolled his eyes. Fine, if the boy was not to speak to him, than he would just have to come straight out and ask. "Where is Wendy?"

Peter walked across the room, floating over any slumbering bodies. "You still here?" Peter replied coldly and still avoiding direct confrontation.

"Yes" Charles answered with as much grace as he could muster. "But do not fret. We shall all leave you be, as soon as Wendy says she is ready to do so."

"Wendy is not with you, Peter?" Michael asked as he rubbed the sleep away from his eyes and lifted his head up from the ground.

"No." he said as he placed his sword in the weapons pail and moved towards his private quarters.

"Well...where is she?" Charles pressed on and stood up from his post against the wall.

"I do not know. I do not care." Peter said, still avoiding looking in Charles' general direction. "Why not go search for her yourself? I know she would much rather you find her than anyone else."

Charles was appalled and deeply disturbed. The boy had left his Wendy stranded out in a strange land, all alone, and in the dead of night! And he was quite sure he had heard rain just a couple of hours after they had gone off on their own. "You mean to say that you deserted her in the forest at night?!"

Peter finally gave in and tossed his head back as he spun around on his heals. "Yes...I....did!" He exclaimed with disdain dripping from every spoken syllable, and glared at the man with vicious eyes. His palms itched to grasp around the handle of his dagger and pull it from his holster to slice his neck straight across.

"What is going on?" Kip asked as the two's raising voice woke all up, and sleeping bodies where now fidgeting and stretching into consciousness.

"Wendy is missing." Charles quickly stated.

"She is not." Peter stated with scaling irritability. "She'll be back when she feels like coming back."

"Well that is simply not good enough for me! A lady should..."

"Wendy is not just a lady!" Peter intrusively interrupted him. "...she is quite capable of handling herself. She always did very well in those woods."

"But never so late at night did she venture into them, Peter." Tootles slowly and quietly argued.

"If you all wish to treat Wendy like a ninny and rush to her unnecessary rescue than do so! I will be in my quarters...resting. You need not even bother waking me when you go home." He announced and shoved his way through the animal hide with such great force that it almost fell from its place on the wall.

The boys gasped silently and looked to each other. Since when did Peter not jump with glee at the opportunity to play hero? Especially when the one needing a hero was Wendy?

Charles glared with shaking eyes at the animal hide. He was by then to say the least, infuriated with Peter Pan. He had so much he would have liked to scream out to the boy. Such things that might have actually warranted a slid to his throat. But he did not say them for good judgment quickly overcame his violent mouth. He breathed his anger into subjugation and turned to grasp the rest's attention. "I will search for her. Any other gentleman among you who will help?"

All her brother's quickly volunteered for they truly feared for her safety. The others were slower to respond, for they sensed Peter was at odds with the girl, but then again, whenever Peter was at odds, it was best to stay clear from his sights, lest he'd feel like forcing you into an abrupt sword fight to ease his troubled mind.

Curly walked to the weapons pail and began passing out swords and daggers, for never should a lost boy or lost but now found boy, be caught out on the island without steel. They took off, some in flight, some on foot, but all scattered in different directions. Almost instantly, as they stepped out into the surface, all noticed the odd gloom in the waking morning. No happy sun rays kissed the skies and no fresh dew dressed the leaves and grass. This was definitely, not a good sign.

Only Tinkerbell remained in the home with Peter, and Snowchime would have done so as well, except that Tink had ordered her to accompany the boys. With all gone, Tink ventured into Peter's snug little cave room, and found the boy lying on his clothed bed. With his front facing the wall, he was desperately trying to pretend to be asleep.

She inched closely to his head and chimed in concern, asking him if he felt ill, and reaching her hands out to feel for an elevated heat from his flushed skin.

"No Tink, I am not ill. I do not get ill, remember?" was his morose response. "Just go away. I am tired."

Tinkerbell retracted her hands before they made contact unto his skin. She knew it was not a physical hurt that plagued the boy, for she had heard the storms of the night, and she had heard the disdain in his hostile discussion with Charles. She had quite a good idea as to what was wrong, but she needed him to speak of it first, so she tried again, chiming for an explanation for his sudden spell of exhaust.

"Tink!" He cried out, lifting his head slightly, before dropping it again. "I do not wish to talk!"

Tink sighed with trouble in the breath she let out. He was one to have fits of anger, but always, they were quickly followed by bursts of mischief onto anyone nearest, so she waited for a word of prank from him, but none followed. She huffed in fury, as she thought of Wendy's stupidity for actually telling Peter of Charles.

There was nothing to do but let him wade out of his depression, and she hoped that it would be as quick as all his other times. She hovered over to his chimed that all would be better as soon as all who did not belong in Neverland would leave.

Peter remained quiet, with only a slight fidget of his shoulders. She pleaded for him to confide in her, telling him that she was his trusted little fairy, and that it was not good to keep anger sealed up...for that was such a grown up thing to do.

Peter remained quiet, and then he slowly pulled his knees up against his chest, cradling himself into his arms. After a long pause, he finally said, in a fleeting voice "She found _husband_, Tink." He tucked his chin in, muffling his words even more. "Charles is _husband_." The last word, said with a hint of sob.

Now Tinkerbell was truly upset! That foolish girl had disobeyed her and actually told Peter exactly what she had expressed she should not! She would have kicked herself if she could, for having given Wendy such liberty and opportunity to do so. She should have acted on her first instinct and sent the girl back straight home...or at least shoved enough pumperberries in her mouth to swell her tongue and render it useless for her entire stay. She tried to console Peter, by reminding him that it was bound to happen and that he knew what she was to do when returning to London. Once she tried the truth, and failed, she tried a lie and told him to not fret, for it was just one stupid girl and he would eventually forget her anyway.

She was still in mid loathing for her own carelessness and Wendy's loose tongue, when Peter finally spoke again, but this time, the muffled sobs shattered her tiny angry heart. "No...Tink" he said and sniffed quietly "...it was not just any stupid girl. It was _my_ Wendy."

* * *

Charles trudged along through the thick vines and protruding shrubbery. The boys found it easier to fly about amongst the tree tops, searching down upon the ground, but Charles preferred to keep his feet on land, for he had only managed to fly earlier with much of the fairy's assistance.

They searched for hours, circling the island many a time, and bumping into one another every now and then. Upon the fifth or so time that Charles met up with John, the two decided to take a moment and rest beneath the shade.

"I can not believe the boy left her alone!" Charles cried as he tapped the back of his head against the trees' thick trunk. "What was going through his mind?"

John sighed. "He meant no harm. He is just not at times. Besides, he was right. Wendy knows these woods very well. "

Charles huffed, his gaze resting on a dark cave peeking out through the trees before them. "Still, that _Hook_ and his pirates are about. They could easily ambush her! Do not forget that it was she who they had come for in the first place."

John nodded in agreement, as Charles rambled on about how Wendy could be in hell's danger at the moment due to Peter's carelessness. But the older boy quickly silenced when he noticed John's nods where all in automatic reply, for his eyes kept searching amongst the shrubbery.

"I doubt she would just be lingering about here, rest your eyes for a bit longer. We'll pick up the search in a moment."

John turned to Charles and smiled forcefully. "Right."

They sat for a few more minutes, resting their soles and Charles strived to close his eyes and get a quick nap, for his eyes were bloodshot with sleeplessness, but it would not happen. Finally, he gave up and told John he would now continue his search. Once he disappeared into the shrubbery again, John got up and searched around him as he fiddled with his shirt collar and cuffs. Once he saw no prying eyes, he took a step back and turned around to the east, with each step slightly more rushed than the last one. It had been long nights of restless dreams since he was last in Neverland. Images of chocolate eyes and red war paint hovered in his thoughts. A tickle on his lips and a warmth of hands on his cheeks. Now that Charles was safe, and all were out rummaging through the forest for Wendy, he allowed his boyish desires to posses him and off he went in search of his sister, following in the path to the Piccaninnies encampment.

* * *

"Miss Darling"

Bill Jukes stood guard at the door as Smee walked into the chamber, its extravagance only second to the Captain's quarters. He carried in his arms, a crimson floor length gown, velvet in texture and rich appearance. He walked towards the bed, where Wendy sat upon the mattress with both feet firmly planted on the ground and both hands clasped onto her lap, her eyes resting onto the wooden floor.

"The captain says you are to wear this for dinner. He expects you to accompany him in his chambers."

Wendy turned and glared at the dress draped over the first mate's extended arms. "I am fine as I am. Besides, since when does a Captain dine with his prisoners?" She looked up into his ever flushed face, creased with untold years of piracy and service to a belligerent master.

Smee smirked and cocked his head to the side. "Lassy, I doubt he thinks otherwise." He placed the dress upon the chair to his right. "It is not a request, Miss. 'Tis an order, and around here, we obey Captain James Hook's orders. You shall know that in time."

Wendy stared into his playfully innocent eyes, flickers of a kinder man than a pirate evident in their colored rim. "I do not plan to stay here long enough to learn that lesson. _Your captain_ should know that."

Smee chuckled with amusement, and walked back towards the door, but halted right at the doorway and without turning, said "You know, there are worthier beings on this bloody island, to which that kiss of yours could have been granted to."

Wendy looked up in a startled fit, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted, but just as she flashed her gaze up towards the first mate, the door closed behind him, and the skeleton keys jiggled in the lock.

* * *

Thank you for reading.


	15. Beyond My Reach

**Author's Note:**

If you like what you see here, than let me recommend my new story, _Winds of Time_ (Peter Pan of course!). I am trying to devote as much time as I can to this story, but I gotta go with my creative flow, and right now, I have the juice for the other story. I _am_ trying to write as much as I can for this story...but I don't want to force it out...that's how my other stories have turned to crap. Rather, I'm a passive writer...I wait for the story to reveal itself, and right now...it's being hesitant. But do not fret! I know how this will develop and end and I'm just having a bit of difficulty with the words. Patience please! I believe we are rolling towards the climax.

**Pastthepointoftrying:** I never tire of your comments! In fact, I look forward to them! You seem to scoop up every bit of subtext I present to the reader! I was beginning to think that I did such a poor job at it because no one seemed to see it. Your idea of all the characters is just as I envision them! I'm beginning to wonder if you've picked at my brain while I was asleep. I love my Wendy. I too disliked that bubble headed portrayal of her in the novel and much prefer her strong female role in the movie. I am trying to take that and develop it into how I believe she could have been, if only her story wasn't cut off so fast. But please, I know that the careful reader that you are would have noticed the flaws as well! Don't be shy! Reveal them to me! It can only help the story.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Beyond My Reach**

James Hook turned the hook in his hand about, as if inspecting it from every angle, but truly, his mind was in an entirely different matter. That of his prisoner and the odd way in which she had found herself in his clutches. Just like the night of the most horrid vision that ever seeped into his eyes, he had felt a ghastly whisper in his ears, urging him to follow as it lead him into the Fairy Grove. The first time, he had witnessed the emptiness in Peter Pan disperse amongst the golden glitter of the fey and his own grasp around the darkness in the boy's heart had weakened momentarily, as Wendy drifted in his arms. A horrid pang of utter loneliness had sprung within his own chest, echoing the void like sentiment throughout his consciousness. Pan was no longer like him. Pan had found a Wendy.

But of course, the boy was still simply a boy, incomplete and fearful of the implications of such a hold a girl could have on him, so the fairies parted and the moment ended, and Hook could hear Pan's angry cries to silence the girl's queries of true feelings, and he saw him fly off in a fit of rage, leaving her behind still calling out his name in ache.

Tonight, it had been almost the same. He had felt that haunting whisper and he had followed it back to the Fairy Grove, although it was then dark and empty. No fairies, no Wendy, no Pan. But it was as expected. He alone, in a place where only joy and light was usually abound. Such seemed to be his whole existence on this island. He sat with his back pressed against the fairy tree, his eyes straying down onto the dusk of the ground. His soles planted firmly on the ground and his arms stretched out over his bent knees.

With no one around to see the truth behind the malice of his eyes, he allowed his face to fall and thoughts to seep into his awareness; thoughts that were as defeating to him, as Pan's own sword and mocking tongue. But as he swam in the dark of his own despair, he heard the gentle footing on grass and a quiet whimper behind him. He turned to face around the fairy tree, and there she stood. From where had she come from and why was she alone?

Without another thought, he had slowly crept up from the shadows where he had lain hidden from her sights. He had moved to notify his presence, expecting to hear a cry for Pan or watch her take off in flight, but she did neither, and simply stared into his eyes. She had been frightened, that was for sure. Her graceful vision trembled, and her throat let out quiet gasps, but that was all. He had spoken her name and she had done the same but nothing else had followed in that silent awkwardness.

Not knowing what else to do, for he had not planned for any of this, he reached for the sword in his holster, keeping his eyes directly upon her. She gasped as she saw his fingers wrap around his blades' handle. He pulled it out and pointed the shinning edge to her throat, still feet away.

"My my, Ms. Darling." He had taunted. "What a silly thing to do; be out so late into the night with such a menace as I, free to lurk in the shadows."

But her only reply had been a shaky stare into his dull blue eyes.

"What was Pan thinking? Allowing his fair Wendy to run about, unescorted?"

Once again, no words had passed through her lips and a sinister thought formed in his queries. Things had progressed as he had planned! Sooner than he expected, but they had! With a closer inspection of the sentiment in her quivering gaze, he read her like an open book, and knew why she did not cry out for her hero and why she had wondered into the Fairy Grove alone. Of course! The rain that had befallen earlier should have been his first clue! Peter Pan was heartbroken, and Wendy felt the guilt of an unfaithful lover.

"Cap'n?" Smee walked into Hook's quarters, silently yet not unnoticed, waking Hook from his spell of pensiveness.

"What is it, Mr. Smee?" Hook asked with his back still to the first mate.

"The lass is secure in her ...err....cell...and I've taken the gown to her." He paused. "Mind you cap'n, I doubt she'll do as you requested."

Hook loomed over the small steel chest that housed his many hooks. "No matter. I offered her a more befitting dress for a lady. Whether she accepts it or not, is entirely due to her own good or bad form."

"As you say, cap'n." Smee replied, but instead of excusing himself and retiring, he remained behind his captain, who noticed his lingering presence.

"Is there something else?" Hook asked with a bored sigh.

"Well, cap'n." Smee continued. "I was just wondering...the lass...Ms Wendy. Her capture was not part of your brilliant plan, wont her presence here, interfere?"

Hook threw his head back and sighed loudly at Smee's question, to which the first mate quickly added in fear that he had angered Hook, "I mean, the shaman wench just took her leave from the ship, and Ms. Wendy's _cell_ has wide windows...she could have seen her. What if she told Pan?"

"For that to happen, Mr. Smee" Hook interrupted and turned around, setting the hook into its place on his severed wrist. "Wendy would have to be in liberty, which she is not. And secondly, who is to say that that would not be a good thing?"

Smee fidgeted and squinted as he brought his eyebrows together. "I'm afraid, I do not understand."

"Of course you wouldn't, Mr. Smee. You are a man of limited capabilities. That is why I am here. To lead you and the rest of those scurvy dogs by the noses, otherwise you'd fallen victim to the devil boy's sword long ago." He twisted the hook until the click announced its proper installment. He pulled out the embroidered handkerchief from his shirt sleeve and began to wipe the smudges off the shinning metal.

"Then, cap'n, would you mind explaining it to me?"

Hook sighed with no real feeling. "Very well. If you insist." He turned around and dropped the handkerchief on the table for Smee to pick up. "How is it that I am here, Smee? Was I not devoured by the croc?"

"Yes, but you slashed your way free from its entrails, and found your way back to your loyal crew."

"But did it ever occur to you, that being so close to death, one is privy to its ultimate plans?"

"Perhaps..."

"No" Hook said. "Not perhaps. Yes!" He playfully circled Smee and continued. "Death has shown me her past actions, and such delectable things did I see! This is the boy's haven! This is his safety and home, but where he to know! Oh, were he to know! Would the fairies glow and the birds sing? Would the skies twinkle with diamonds abound? Would the sun shine upon this green that adorns?"

"Where...he...to know what, cap'n?" Smee interrupted as Hook circled about and came to a stop before him. He turned to face Smee straight in the eyes, and nose to nose almost.

"To know, the tragedy that this cursed isle is formed from. To know the truth of it all. To know, his very own existence as well as mine, is nothing more than an ever present ghost story."

Smee's eyes widened with admiration for his captain's devilish ingenuity. "But what about your plan? I thought you was to use the girl for your vengeance? Where does she fit into it all?"

And with this, Captain Hook's eyes gleamed with the promise of precious reprisal from Pan. "That will simply be the beginning of his end!" Hook announced. "Think of it Smee! Picture it in your puny intellect! Pan fighting gallantly for his Wendy, and yet, she mourns the dying body of the dashing Charles! Think of how utterly _alone_ he will be, to know that his Wendy truly found another and as he feels the defeat of his heart, I will simply aid him by ripping it out from his frail chest! I will free him once he is mine again! I will free him, once he knows of the darkness of his land! And finally!!!!... I will free myself of that cursed Pan!"

Hook laughed his wicked laugh and sent Smee out once again to fetch the girl for dinner, but from the outside of the circular window, a tiny glow hid to the side as her fairy ears picked up every spoken word that passed within the cabin walls. _'No!'_ she thought and clutched her hands before her mouth. _'No!'_ She looked about with fear being the driving emotion in her tiny fairy heart. _'Never must he know! No, Never!'_ And off she went towards the island.

* * *

He snuck about the woods, stepping as lightly as he could, but with much less success than the stealthy aborigines. As he came to the side of the first teepee, his heal landed on a twig, and so it snapped with the faintest snap, but even so, every Indian within the area heard the signal of intruders, and suddenly came the cries of war from all directions.

John's eyes rounded as he suddenly found himself surrounded by the redskins, young and old, tall and short, female and male, but each as deadly as the one next. He stood his ground- mind you, not because of any grand show of courage, but rather frozen in fright- and watched as they stood as still as stones, until the one right before him stood completely erect from his crouched position, and took a step forward, closing the short distance between himself and the pale face.

John stared in fright, as his eyes noted the prominent features of the brave before him. Taller than he by a good head or so and slender with ripples of muscles below courage tan skin. And on his right hand, he wore a glove, fashioned from the paw of a grizzly complete with extended claws that looked sharp enough to slash through stone. The menacing Piccaninnie, perhaps 5 years older than John by appearance, glared threatengly at John, which reminded the boy of why he had chosen to sneak about instead of simply marching into the encampment.

The Indian finally spoke, in his native tongue, and John caught a word here and there, enough to know he asked for his identity, but nothing more.

"I am John, John Darling." He said, hoping that someone there might remember him before he found himself face to claw with the Indian. in peace?" He meant it as a statement, but somewhere in the middle of his sentence, his voice cracked and a question was asked instead.

The Indian narrowed his eyes, and watched him closely. Once again in his native language, he asked a question. John listened intently, squinting as if trying to read in the dark rather than listen to an unfamiliar tongue, but that method proved unfruitful. He sighed nervously. "I've only learned a word or two...from my last visit....I have come before..." He wanted to look around for a familiar face in the deadly crowed. Morningdew perhaps, or even Scarletbreeze, but he did not wish to remove his eyes from the menacing brave before him.

"Peter!" John suddenly blurted out. "I am an old lost boy....sort of..." he said, knowing or rather hoping that Peter Pan's name alone would be enough to buy him amnesty.

"Peter Pan?" a child's voice asked as the owner made his way through the crowed. "You a friend of the Pan?"

"Chief Flying Eagle?" a girl behind him added.

"Yes!" John exclaimed with marked relief as he noticed the Indians' expressions relaxing, but still not relenting.

"What is your purpose for skulking about?" The brave before him asked. "Why not simply fly in and crow like the Pan?"

"I did not want to simply barge in and cause a havoc...." He bit his lower lip. "...much like...I find myself in ...at the moment...." He said as he snickered at his own stupidity in his mind.

Still unconvinced of the outsider's innocence, the Indian pressed on, "Why here?"

John gulped and sucked on his lower lip. "I come to see an old friend...your Princess Tigerlili."

Suddenly, the menacing silence around here turned to deadly chatter. They whispered amongst each other with surprised sighs and intrigued gasps. The brave himself, only looked at John with more thought, and a slight sneer in his gaze was felt down the fearful boy's spine.

"Tunahaka!" The brave suddenly cried out as he threw his arms in the air, forcing silence upon all. John didn't know whether to be relived or even more frightened, so he waited for more.

Eyes firmly held on John, the brave slowly let down his arms. "If you come for Tigerlili, then I am your opponent."

John stared at the brave with wide eyes. "Opponent?"

"Dress for battle, we dual at sun set!" The brave firmly announced and the crowed hollered in excitement

John's jaw dropped. "Dual? What? Why?" He shouted about the crowd's excited chatter. "I mean you no harm!" He persisted as he stared into the brave's smiling face. "Honestly! Does it look like I could do any harm to the likes of any of you?!?! Maybe Morningdew...but even that is questionable!"

The brave raised his arms again and the hollering quickly seized. "You come for Tigerlili. I have proven my worth to take her as my bride by slaying all others in battle. You come...late...but you come...You and I will battle. Once I slay you....it is done and she is mine."

John would have continued his rational protest, but as soon as the brave finished speaking and John opened his mouth, he found himself ambushed by prying hands, pulling and dragging him while he kicked up a storm of dirt that trailed their path into a tent where the women quickly set to work upon his person, calling out for war paint and feathers, pelts and skins for adorning a warrior.

* * *

Peter woke in the comfort of his private room, and turned his head from the wall to search for Tinkerbell, but she had gone while he slept. It was better this way, he thought as he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. He did not really feel like talking about anything, at least not with her. While in sleep, he knew things that while awake would never be allowed to walk amongst his thoughts, and although consciousness was quickly and forcefully thrusting such phantoms into their catacombs, they still struggled to remain in wake.

Tink had said it was to be expected. What else was she to do when she chose to return to London? Did he really expect her to wait by her window forever when he had opted to discard all memory of her? He shook his head violently and those phantoms slipped and fell into their coffins, the lids shutting tightly. There was no room for logic in his world.

He quickly shot out of bed, his anger fully re-discovered, and marched to the main room, where he expected to find the man and demand he leave without Wendy at once, if need be, persuaded by the sleek edge of his dagger to his throat. But when he stepped foot through the animal hide, his hand ready on the blade, and saw no one there, he remembered why all were out. Had they not come back since then? Had they not found her? Was she still lingering in the forests? Alone? He furrowed his brown as his anger slowly subsided into slight panic, but he quickly took a heavy breath and discarded his fears.

He stood in the middle of the room with his hand still on the dagger and his eyes resting in empty space. Wendy had found husband. There was no denying that for he had heard it directly from her, but that did not mean that was the end of it at all! They were in Neverland, and here, he was king. Here children ruled and all was his way or not at all. Here, grown ups always lost out.

He rushed to the weapon's pail and pulled out a sword, sliding it into place on his waist and floated to the nearest exit, slamming his fist against the mushroom that was the release for the door.

The bark parted and he rushed out the opening, noting that night had once again fallen, and a strong wind washed across the island. How long had he been asleep? Perhaps Wendy was already safe in the boys' care, and he was just rushing for no reason. He furrowed his brow in determination, and sped up, creating even more turbulent wind as he crashed through the shrubbery. No, he'd find her, even if she had already been found; he would simply snatch her away and hoist her into the open sky with him. Things would not end this way! Things ended when and how he commanded them to end!

His eyes traveled feet before his body, noting every falling leaf and stirring flower. He sped around the island, through it, and across it. He passed by some of the boys, who only saw a streak of gold and green. He sped by the Indian Village, where he thought he heard a boy's frightened cry for his name, but he had no intention of stopping for any boy's cry, it was Wendy's that he searched for.

Finally, after he lost count of how many times he circled the island, he slowly came to a stop, and landed gently on the ground, near the Never Cascades and hot springs. He turned his eyes to the rushing waters, steam rising up from the perfect crystalline fall. "Wendy...I am sorry I left you out here alone..." His eyes' gaze fixed into an angry glare. "If you are staying away to teach me one of your lessons on proper manners...."

"I doubt that is what she is up to."

Peter darted around, his hand quickly fixed upon his sword, and stared into Charles' face.

"No need to draw, it is only I." Charles stated.

Peter scoffed, the left of his upper lip raising gently in a subtle sneer. "I know."

Charles sighed and stepped closer to Peter, watching carefully that he would let go of his sword. Peter huffed and sighed but released his grip, letting his arm fall to his side, and turned away from the man. "Have you not found her?" he asked in a lowered tone.

"No." Charles replied. "And it's been an entire day." He stepped up to the streams edge, standing at arms length from Peter. "I am truly worried for her now."

"Wendy is a courageous being." Peter quickly stated in notable disdain. "Not easily duped or caught." He took one sideways step away from Charles. "I would not be surprised if she is hiding out somewhere to try and teach me a lesson for leaving her behind."

Charles sighed once again. "It would serve you right if she did just so..."

Peter's face quickly darted to the boy. "It would serve you right to refrain from speaking to me so!"

Charles turned to stare at the younger boy, and so they found themselves in a match of frightful glares, neither willing to look away before the other. "I will have you remember that I did not come of my own free will! I was dragged here! Otherwise, I would have never come to invade your home, so don't feel like I am any kind of intrusion!"

Peter sneered. "But you _are_ an intrusion! All was well until you came along! Wendy was perfectly happy and then you began to fill her head with such foul concepts!" He paused a moment as the word formed like a gust of turbulent winds from his tongue. "Husband!"

Charles flinched at the boy's apparent use of the word as an insult. "Husband?"

"Yes! Husband!" In a split moment, Peter drew his dagger and held it to Charles' throat, to which he only had time to flinch in reaction and raise his chin against the cool steel. "You filled her head with such atrocities! If she is in any sort of danger at the moment...it is because of you! To be a child here is to be in safety! But to be a grown up here is to live in chaos at all times! You have brought it upon her! She was always well when she thought not of such things!"

"Pan!" Charles wailed with astonishment "What is this madness! Put down your weapon, boy!"

But Peter was well into his descent from sanity, and only clutched the blade closer to his throat. "It would be just to slid your throat and free her from such horrid things."

"And you believe killing me would return her heart to you?" He said as he looked down into Peter's frightening eyes. "Do you truly believe that harming me will make her want to stay?"

Peter furrowed his brow as he heard the man's queries. No, of course Wendy would never approve, for never had she even liked it when he had to strike down pirates in their own defense. Never did she like the end of a life by Peter's hands. He slowly let the dagger down, and he took a step away from Charles as he gently sighed in relief and placed one hand where the steel had touched him, only to retract it and see a hint of blood on his finger tips.

Peter glanced at his dagger with unnoticeable astonishment of seeing the smear of fresh blood, and did not say a word.

"Pan, I did not come to take anything away from you." He said as he took a handkerchief from the inner lining of his coat and dabbed it on his throat. "It seems to me, that things had already transgressed before I came into the picture."

Peter sneered and replaced the dagger on his holster, blood stained still. "Do not speak of things you do not know."

He continued to dab at his neck, but seeing that the blood that had been drawn was no more than that of a paper cut, he folded his handkerchief and put it away. Placing his sights squarely on the boy, he fuddled with his next words. "What happened? With her?"

But Peter was not so easily placed under inquisition. "And what makes you think that you are privy to anything?"

Charles sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. By Nibs' advice, he was trying to understand the depth behind the boy's impish smile and murderous acts, but he was not allowing such an understanding to be known. And then out of nowhere, Peter began to speak, but with marked passivity.

"You know, you do not own your own world to give to her." He raised his sight to Charles and with a commanding gaze said, "I do."

Charles relented to the truth, but not to be outwitted, replied. "True enough, boy; but I would be willing to give up whatever bit of world I did have, just for her." With one quick glance up and down Peter's length, he finished his blow. "You apparently, were not man enough to do so."

And that was all Peter needed to hear to lose the only thread of sanity that was still left within him. With another sleek swoop, Peter's right hand had reached for the sword placed on his left side and quickly drew it and slid across Charles' upper right arm. The young man stumbled back unto his rear, clutching the wound with his left hand and wide eyes glaring at the blood that seeped through his clenched hand, then up into Peter's infuriated face.

With his sword held high above in the air from where it came to a stop after slicing through Charles' flesh, he glared down at Charles with menacing loath. "Never a man!!!" he exclaimed.

He slowly let down his sword and advanced towards Charles as he lay still on the ground. He gently placed the tip of his sword to Charles throat, revisiting the same spot he had threatened with his dagger but a moment ago. "Of course I am not a man! To be a man is to make promises and not keep them! To be a man is to say one thing and do another! To be a man is to forget what is the beauty of life itself! I would never promise things to her that I would not keep! I always did exactly as I said and always did I show her the wonder of simply living in my land! Here in my world she has known things that no one else would ever be able to show her and all of this could be as much hers as it is mine if only she would stay! If only she would not have that need to be one of them...be like you! Be like him!"

"Like what?!" Charles asked as he looked at Peter from the edge of his lower sight.

"She wishes to grow up! She wishes to grow old! She wishes for all the mundane things of the world below! Why?! I will never know! But it is you who offers them to her and it is you she has chosen!"

"Pan!!!" Charles exclaimed with growing fear for his own life seeing as to how the boy was loosing control over his stealth handle on the blade. One false move and the cold steel would completely slice through. But Peter did not mean to finish him off, although he desired it at the moment. He was angry, that was obvious, and such reason he had to be so. He retained the threat to his neck, but his think and speech calmed.

With a long and deep sigh, he regained his composure. He cocked his head up and with a slight shake of his head and a look of utter contempt, he said, "She wished to leave, and I helped her get home. I did not stop her. I did not forcefully keep her. I never have done so with anyone. They come; they enjoy; they leave. I stay. Would you be "man" enough to do the same?"

Charles stared at Peter with trembling eyes. So this was the truth behind the impish smile. Solitude in a land of wonder. "I do not know." He conceded.

Something about the change in Charles' gaze softened Peter's own and the turbulence in his thoughts dissipated. For the first time since he'd met the young man, he spent time enough in his eyes to see what might be so commanding to his Wendy's admiration. It was that sort of soft visage edged with a rugged wind. It was a mix of youth and "maturity" that Wendy always seemed to posses within herself, even years ago. They were like two petals of that lovely white rose that Wendy stopped to stare into the night before. Almost identical in grace and form. He exhaled softly and retracted his sword, and to his own surprise replaced it with his outstretched hand. Charles glanced at it, but took it just the same, and up Peter helped him to his feet.

A moment of heavy silence as Charles still held on to his gashed arm and Peter took a few steps back towards the water's edge again. Had he really lost her? Was there truly no hope? But that could not be! He was king! She was to be queen. He inhaled deeply, trying hard to push back the unforgiving sobs that bubbled to the surface.

Charles heard the slightest subdued whimper and turned to see Peter, but his face was turned away from him and towards the crashing waters. "Pan" he said and took a courageous step towards him. "I am truly sorry for any discord between us. But I am willing to let all that step aside, in favor of the most important thing right now; finding Wendy."

Peter inhaled deeply and with a serious countenance turned to look at Charles. It was true. There was no more time to be wasted. "If we are to find Wendy, we must speak with the mermaids. They'll know where she is."

* * *

Smee held the door ajar as Wendy stepped through into Hook's private quarters, caution in her every stride and still dressed in her own attire.

"Welcome" Hook said as he rose from his seat at the extravagantly adorned dinner table, where a meal of elegant pheasant and fresh fruit and pastry waited for them. He moved towards the chair which was placed adjacent to his side of the table and pulled it out for her to take a seat.

She glanced towards it, then up into his face and with a minute sigh, she walked towards him and took the seat, thanking him out of polite etiquette. Hook pushed her chair in and returned to his own as Smee poured water into their goblets and retreated to reach for the wine.

Hook chuckled lightly to himself which Wendy found to be extremely discourteous. "What is so amusing to you, Captain?"

Hook cleared his throat and glanced at Wendy from the corner of his eyes. "My dear, it is just all very much familiar. Such as if, no time did pass since the first and last time you were here in my quarters."

"But it_ has_ been quite a while captain." She said with no real feeling. "Four years. Fours years in which my life was perfectly pleasant, until you invaded it again."

He looked at her with a slight curve in the right hand side of her lips. Somewhere in the middle of her speech, Smee had dangled the bottle of red wine in front of her to which she nodded politely for him to pour into her wine glass. But he did not point out the difference in her taste of drink this time around from the last.

"Why am I here, Captain?" She asked straight to the point. "Why did you not just run me through upon our meeting. Surely it would have been of largely less bother to you if you would have done so."

Hook raised the wine glass to his lips and sipped the sweet substance unto his tongue. "That it would have been, Miss Darling." He said and replaced the glass on the table, looking her deeply into her crystal blue eyes. "I need you still, for my vengeance on the boy."

"Always the same melody." She said and took a sip from her water goblet. "How many times have I been a pawn in your game of cat and mouse? Too many for me to recall, but always the end is the same." She put the goblet down and stared him squarely in the eyes. "Face it, Captain. You will never win. I can tell you exactly how it will turn out. I'll be here, locked away. There will be a crow from the diamond sky and then a brawl. You'll scream your line of curses at Peter, and then he'll retreat, laughing along the way, with me in flight right beside him and my boys."

But rather than infuriate him, her words were a pleasant strum upon his senses. So much had she matured over the years, for now she did not seem to be in frightful enjoyment like then. Before, although in harm's way, there was always that hidden smile of childish enjoyment. Now, not even the thought of her golden boy's heroic rescue seemed to spark that lovely gleam in her eyes. "Does this whole _game_ tire you now?"

She sighed and turned her gaze away from his prying eyes and towards empty space. "I just wish to go home." She said and with a mournful tone, added. "This place is...not for me anymore."

"It was never for me." He said morosely without thinking first. Wendy's gaze quickly shot back to his, and for a moment, Hook did not feel so alone.

* * *

Thank you for hanging on. I'm sorry for the long delays. I hope you feel the update was satisfying.


	16. The Tragedy of His Existence

**Author's Note:**

I am very sorry for the extremely long delay. I've been really busy with school and today was the first day in a while that I could take to just relax at my computer. Once again, this is only the first draft and any grammar and spelling errors will be edited. I posted it because I didn't want to keep the readers waiting and therefore, lose them, and although I like the chapter, I still feel it could have been better, so I might revise later. In any case, enjoy.

**Ch. 16: The Tragedy of His Blessed Existence **

Curly made his way down the shoot, tumbling onto the floor and laying there for a second with his limbs stretched out at all angles, staring up into the earth ceiling.

"Welcome back my boy! We were just about to have ourselves a bit of grub." Juni said as he placed a bowl of assorted fruits, on the wooden table near the center of the room.

"No luck either, huh?" Tootles asked as he sat down at the table, rolling up his now dirty sleeves and taking an apple from the bowl.

"Nope." Curly said, rising to his feet and shaking the foliage from his bushel of hair, now back to it's original wild state.

"Well, no worries." Juni said as he swung one leg over the bench at the table. "Tink came in earlier and said that she'd found her and to just stay put. I'm sure Peter's with her by now and there off on some other little adventure."

"True." Curly said and sat at the table with the rest, filling their stomachs to their content, their property and manners quickly forgotten as they rummaged and plowed through the fruits, sending chunks of orange, apple, watermelon and the such flying into the air.

But amidst their own noisy chewing and loud squabbling, they heard another body plummeting down the shoot, but with less grace and joy then usual, and out from the opening behind them, John tumbled to the ground, his brown slacks and white button shirt gone, dressed in Indian pelts and war paint, his skin covered with scrapes, bruises and dried blood from minor grazes.

He rolled over unto his knees and palms, his head held low, and Michael quickly shot up from his seat, floating over the table and rushing to his side, followed by the rest. "What happened to you?" he asked as he put his arms around his shoulder.

"I lost."

"You lost?" Nibs repeated, as dumfounded as the rest.

"What are you talking about?" Michael inquired.

"Tigerlili." John said, his head still held low. "I lost her."

"Princess Tigerlili?" Heath asked. "I don't understand."

"It's complicated." Michael said in a matter-of-fact tone as he quickly looked up at him, before returning his attention to his brother and helping him to his feet.

"They were kinda like a…thing" Slightly whispered to Heath.

"What happened?" Tootles asked.

"Wait, wait. Wendy would first tend to his wounds and have him clean up." Nibs said. "Let's let him do that first."

After John changed out of the garments the Indians had dressed him in and dabbed at his skin with a damp cloth, he returned to the main room, where the boys eagerly awaited an explanation, much to his embarrassment. He wanted to kick himself for having mentioned it at all, and a slight tinting blushed on his face as he sat down and had all eyes on him.

"It's really nothing!" John said, hoping they'd leave him be.

"Oh, it's something. Tell us!" Tweed insisted.

The blush on his cheeks grew louder. "I…I just wanted to see her again. I…I though that maybe, since Peter had grown up and remembered, than maybe, she had so as well…but…when I got to the Indian village, I was ambushed….and BearClaw thought I had come to battle to take her as my bride."

"My fairy heavens! Don't tell me you fought BearClaw!" Heath cried out.

"You survived?!" Juni added.

"Amazing!" Kip said.

"I only survived because Tigerlili intervened. She arrived just as BearClaw was about to rip through my chest with a spear and ordered the battle over, declaring BearClaw the victor."

"Well, she saved you." Slightly said. "He was supposed to kill you off. Those are the rules."

"True, but…she didn't even remember me. She looked at me as if I was unimportant, a mere speck of dirt beneath her feet."

"Well, she is royalty…and if she has never seen you before in her life, or thinks she hasn't…"

"Yes, yes…I know…still…it wasn't a pleasant feeling."

"I can only imagine." Heath said, a morose undertone in his speech.

"Well, fine. Whatever. At least I know what became of us." John said, puffing his chest out with forced courage. "I'm starving. BearClaw had me running around the entire arena."

* * *

Hook stared into her eyes, a tenderness kindling in his chest as he noticed the silent compassion apparent in gaze and softened face. But no, he would not give in so easily and up went the walls around him once again. He tore his sight away from her and focused on his wine, sipping and tapping his fingers nervously on the wooden top.

"Why are you here, cap'n?" Wendy finally broke the frantic silence, the unexplored childlike plea in his opaque eyes tugging at her most nurturing of sentiments.

His eyes were hopelessly drawn to her again, and he watched her as her face spoke sympathies never before known for him. Her lips formed a simple line, with an almost ghostlike yet unmistakably real curving downwards. Her eyes deepened into quiet questioning of the sentiments embedded in his slip of tongue, prying through the barriers of pretend that seemed all too usual on the island.

He gripped his fingers around his goblet, turning it about on the table top, eyes held firmly on the tender ripples of the ruby liquid. "This is not my home. Surely you must have realized that."

"Of course I have." Her eyes still burrowing, making great strides at the stone walls, unrelenting in her warm inquisition. "But has time not proven this place to be the only thing that you know? Peter sees it. Peter relishes in it. Why not you?"

"There is a tremendous difference between the boy and myself, although in our depths, we are pretty much, two sides of the same dabloon. He, I am quite sure, fled to this place, while I spend my days and nights in constant search for an escape from it. You think you know your Peter well, but no. Only I know the true malice that he is. Only I have been witness to the horror that lurks behind that impish smile. He is a god, and gods are all alike. They amuse themselves with us; grant us little trinkets of joy, but as easily as they bestow them upon our outstretched hands, they rip them away and our hearts as well. It all depends on their whims, as unpredictable as the tides themselves."

"But he is not a god. He is a boy. A human, at least partly if not whole."

"That, you are right."

"One thing troubles me, since the day I first set eyes upon you from the clouds above. You are a pirate, and a captain at that. Barbecue himself even feared you, and you abide by his rules. Be you a pirate, but you do not slash at him at any opportunity. Can it really be that a boy of twelve could have bested you for unimaginable years?"

"It is not unimaginable. I can imagine. I know. Adults do not forget here. Only children do. Children, with their quaint simple ness and lust for an emptiness too destructive for anyone's good. That is the truth of this cursed place."

"Why not just leave then? If you hate it so…why not just set sail…your ship can still fly. Set a course for a new home. Leave the Neverland for Peter and be done with it all."

"My dear, I cannot. There are things a man must do. Things he must repay and matters that must be settled, otherwise, a life left behind is never fully in the past. It always haunts. That boy. He is my demon. I am meant to run him through with the same hook he gave me. That is our destiny. I am the villain to his story, and I am the release he searches. I am sorry to tell you this, my dear, but I am the one that he waits for. Not you."

"I know I am not what he seeks, but to say that you are, is unfathomable. Peter does not seek death. He is not afraid of it, and he welcomes it if need be, but life is too grand of an adventure to be cut short for him. You are wrong, captain."

"That is how it was. We tangoed around the dark mistress for decades, reaching each other's cold steel, but never delivering a final blow. The closest he came was slicing off my hand, and that was only after I angered him enough to do so. I've slashed his across the torso twice, each time he retreated for weeks, nursing himself. But it all changed the day he broke the rules."

"Rules? Of fair play?" She asked with mock in her tone.

He shook his head and took a greater sip of his wine, reaching over for the bottle Smee had placed on the table before retreating completely, and replenishing his goblet. "He brought children who where still alive to his haven." He nonchalantly poured the ruby drink, forcing himself to refrain from stealing a glance at her increasingly fearful expression.

Wendy's lips parted slightly, her brow wrinkling and her azure eyes darkening wide. "I do not…understand…"

He placed the bottle back on the table top, casually returning his gaze to Wendy, an innocent look about his rounded eyes. "Did you…not know?"

"Know what?" Her heart's beating sped up as her lung's pace slowed to an almost halt.

"But of course you would not have known!" He cried out, lightly tapping his forehead with his palm. "He does not know it himself! No one but I and a few more know so! Silly of me to have thought so!"

"Stop it!" Her words barely registered through her labored breathing. "Do not play your games! What are you saying?"

"Peter Pan…is not alive at all. Peter Pan…is…a phantom boy."

He glared forcefully into her dulling eyes, trying to read her rampant thoughts. "He is…" she whispered.

"A tragedy. A little boy lost in a world that let go of him too soon…He is what I am…what we all are here…a ghost."

* * *

Peter would have preferred to leave Charles behind and go to the mermaids himself, but nevertheless good form overpowered him and he pulled the young man along by the collar of his coat, gliding quickly towards the lagoon's edge and letting him down on the ground, a bit rougher than needed, but Charles did not protest. Instead, he simply stood to the side quietly as Peter leaned into the water, bringing his pipe to his lips and strumming a murky melody that flowed beyond their eyes and across the water's surface, dark ripples forming below the notes, with crimson red heads of hair poking out in response to his siren call.

Charles gasped below his breath at the sight of the entrancing creatures. Beauties unlike good, dark and alluring, calling forth to his most male of desires as they swam up to the edge; two heading directly for him. Peter looked on through the corner of his eyes, witnessing as they cast their wicked spell upon him, their scaly hands slowly caressing up his arms and pulling him downwards into the waters, inch by inch.

He flirted with the idea of turning away from the cunning mermaids, allowing their nature to do as it must, but the good in him out-witted his foul thoughts, and he rolled his eyes, thrusting a fisted arm upwards and across Charles' chest, sending him flying back onto the ground, breaking the spell and causing the mermaid to hiss in rage.

Charles lay on his back, with his finger tips gracing his inner lower lip, right opposite of where Peter's hard knuckles had made contact, pushing the pink flesh against his teeth, and ripping a small drop of blood out. He turned an angry eye to Peter, who only remained on the balls of his feet, clutched over the murky waters.

"Before you begin to ramble on about how much contempt I still hold for you – not that you would be wrong – let me instruct you on a bit of the island. Look at your arms, damp up to the elbows. These creature that very easily entranced you were after your last breath of air. They drown anything and anyone who gets to close. Remember that. Next time, I'll let them have you."

Charles surveyed his wet arms, acknowledging to himself the boy's noble yet rude intentions. He came up onto the balls of his feet, but a few inches farther away from the edge than earlier. With caution to avert his gaze from the mermaids' dark mischief, he listened closely as Peter began to produce ticking and clucking sounds with his tongue, apparently conversing with the creatures.

"I need to know where Wendy is." He said, directing his question to their informal leader.

"Lost her again already boy? But she was in your grasp."

Peter eye's flashed with anger, the green around his darkened pupils deepening, his brow creasing in slight fury. A low growl escaped his throat. "I asked a question. You are evading the answer."

"What fun you have lost, boy."

"Games are not your pride no more?" another to her left asked.

"This isn't a game! I need to find Wendy."

"But why? Did she not leave you long ago?" The mermaid right before him asked, reaching a hand over his fisted palms pressed against the ground. "Did she not betray you?" She turned a wicked eye to Charles, sending a silver shiver down the young man's spine.

"I believe she does not deserve this life. Let the Captain have her." Another said.

"I am not asking for your opinions!" Peter said forcefully, pulling his hand away from the mermaid's grasp, although he knew they would never try to drown him. "I am asking for facts!..." He paused. "Then….Hook…he does have her?"

The mermaid sighed, noting her fun was about to end. "Aye."

"But" the mermaid to her right quickly added. "I doubt she will want your rescue."

"She finds Hook to be a man…of feeling." Added another to their left.

Peter's breath deepened, pulling in air with such effort, and filling his chest with a fiery anger. His lips fell from the simple line to a growling sneer, recalling those very words spoken from Wendy's own lips.

"She was mistaken. She knows him to be brute. He is nothing like me."

"Neither is this young man, but she finds him 'husband'- like. Is it not?"

"You are lying!" He rushed to his feet, pulling out his dagger, but the mermaids grinned and chuckled, jumping back into the splashing waters, disappearing before the boy could bring his hand down upon them. The lagoon rippled, and Peter stood with his weapon out, the blade frozen in the wake of his fury.

"Pan? What is it? What did they say?"

Peter turned to him, the weapon still held out. Just one strike; that was all he needed to be rid of one of his problems. His eyes burned with red, his jaw trembling, his breathing harsh and forced, strumming the beat of his anger. He lowered the weapon and returned it to its holster. "She's on the Jolly Roger."

Charles stood up straight, his shoulders squared and his face hardened. "Then there truly is no more time to waste. Lead the way."

* * *

Wendy sat at the edge of the bed, her movements barely real and her thoughts little more than hazy nightmares. The captain had left her just like he wanted, dazed and frightened of all around her. After he delivered the blow, he settled to his dinner as she only stared at him, eyes frozen in a quite state of disbelief. Realizing she would not provide any more intelligible discourse, he reluctantly called for Smee to take her back to her own quarters, with a tray of dinner for her to consume whenever her appetite returned.

A gentle tapping at the circular window startled her from her thoughts, making her jump to her feet and rush up to pry it open.

"Wendy" Peter whispered, placing his hands on either side of the opening and drawing his upper body in through the window. "I did not expect to find you up here…come…we have no time to lose. They might spot me soon."

"Oh Peter!" she cried out and reached her hands out to him to pull his floating body into a deep embrace.

He was startled, for although he had known the sweetness of her kiss, and he had held her in his arms the night before, she had never clutched to him so, at least, not while he was awake and aware of it. Her arms tightened around him, her palms flat against his back, caressing him gently, as if making sure he was really there. Her cheek was pressed firmly against his chest, the quiet thumping of his heart bringing the joy back into her own. He was as alive as she thought he was. Could it be that the captain had lied to her?

"Uh…Wendy." But she did not budge and the warmth from her embrace slowly dispersed his plan of rescue from his thoughts, melting him into simple bliss. His arms began to come around her as well, his fingers barely gracing her form. His feet landed on the wooden floor, bringing her into himself, blanketing her with his own body, his lower right cheek slanting down onto the top of her head. It could not be that she was beyond his reach, not when she held him so. Not when he felt that warmth.

He would have wanted that moment to linger, but the realization that she had pulled him completely into the ship made him jump and push her away enough to look into her tearing eyes.

"What is wrong?" His eyes widened, a storm of heated anger and chilling fear building in his chest. "Has he hurt you?! I'll slay him right here and now!"

"No, Peter!" she quickly said. "No, he has been nothing but gentle towards me. I am completely untouched by his hand or hook."

"Then why are you so…"

She couldn't very well tell him of her reasoning for wanting to make sure he was truly flesh. "It is nothing. I was simply glad to see you. Civil or not, being a pirate's prisoner is never a pleasant experience."

That appeased him, but he inhaled sharply, wondering why it was that she was being detained in a plush room, rather than the dank dungeons below. He smiled lightly and removed his hand from her arms, allowing the right one to slide down to hers. "We must get going then." He pulled her towards the window.

"NO!" she pulled back, refusing to lift off the ground.

"What?" he turned around and softly landed on the floor once more. "Why?"

But she could not tell him. Something within her told her she could not say a word as to what the Captain had said to her, perhaps, it was that little golden light tucked into hiding by the bedpost.

"I just…can't, Peter. If I flee, he will know you came for me, and he will scower the island once again. He means to put an end to you completely this time. He might stop at nothing and burn the whole Neverland into ashes to simply find us."

"I will deal with that. I always have. You need not be in his hand anymore!"

"But that is not all, Peter. He spoke to me. I saw something in him. Something far distanced from piracy and villainy. Peter, I think he is in dire need of aide himself, perhaps, I can be of more help to everyone here. Perhaps, all he needs, is an open heart to…"

"Open heart?!" His eyes rounded, heat emanating from his gut and circling at his lungs. He shook his head vigorously, his golden locks thrusting from side to side. "You have already betrayed me with your young man! I will not allow you to do the same with Hook!!!"

She gasped and stared at his with spiteful eyes. "Betray?! I have never done such a thing!" But she quickly lowered her voice, hearing a pirate's drunken rambles as he stomped by her door. "I cannot go. Understand that and trust me!"

He followed in her whisper reaching his face closer to hers, gaze fully focused on her every expression. "Do you still find Hook to be a man of _feeling_?"

"Yes, Peter. I do! No one is entirely evil, were we to know his circumstances, perhaps we could find a bit of communion and bring a less destructive ends to all the troubles!"

"I like my troubles here! Your troubles are the ones I could do without!"

Her eyes rounded and her mouth hung slightly open, hurt evident in every low breath taken.

Peter's anger dimmed at the sight, replaced by quick shame for his words. "Wendy…look…I…"

"Just go away, Peter." She said and turned around taking a step towards the center of the room and away from him. "There is nothing left for you to do right now. Just go home."

"Wendy" he took a step, reclaiming the distance she had placed between them. "I…did not mean…Look. I will not leave without you. If all you want is for an understanding of Hook, then we shall do that right now." He took her hand and spun her around to meet him, staring into her eyes for a moment before stomping towards the door.

"No! Peter" Wendy pulled back. "I will do it myself."

He turned around. "Why? Why by yourself? I can protect you in case he tries anything…"

But Wendy did not allow him to continue. "Because, Peter, I will do better on my own than with you there! You two are always at odds. You will excite each other. He is a gentleman when only around me."

"Gentleman?!" Peter cried out. "Gentleman!?" He babbled uncontrollably, throwing his arms up in the air, raising his voice to dangerous levels and pulling away from her. "Wendy! Are you daft?"

"Daft?!" She cried out with wide eyes. "How dare you speak like so to me?" She gathered courage to say what was about to roar out. "Of all the things Captain Hook has ever done, he has never shown a sign of disrespect for a lady!"

"Do not compare my actions to his! He might not show "disrespect" verbally but he did try to feed you to the ocean's waters!"

"And you held a sword to my throat and still you show disrespect. I do not fear his lack of civility towards you, I fear yours to him!

Peter had had enough. With one last heaved breath, he turned around and sped out through the window, careless to make sure all was clear for his departure without being spotted.

Wendy rushed to the circular portal, closing it shut and latching it tightly before turning away and returning to the bed, lying down and allowing herself to sulk. It had taken most of her will to keep herself from following Peter into the night, and all of her tattered heart to anger him enough to turn away from her. But she had to do it. Hook had told her such frightening things, and were they the truth or not, she did not know, but she wouldn't risk their meeting.

Unknown to her, a tiny orb of light glided from a hidden nook at the corner of the room, circling the window and then circling the door, checking for spying eyes or ears, but there were none.

"Wendy?"

She gasped and shot up in the direction of the little tinkle of bells. "Tink?" she roughly wiped her eyes, hating to be seen in such a whimpering state by the little fairy. "How did you get in here?"

"I entered just a step before Peter. He never noticed me. The silly ass." She floated towards Wendy, coming to rest on the bedpost to remain at her eye level. Wendy sat up on her knees, pulling a bothersome strand of hair away from her face. "I saw what happened. I heard what was said."

Wendy inhaled deeply, calming her sulking from reinstating itself. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to upset him so. Well, I guess I did, but not to be spiteful. I know it is his nature to forget things…and people…but…"

"Oh hush girl!" Tink interrupted her babbling. "I didn't mean that. I know why you said what you said to him, and if you wouldn't have made him leave, I would have done something to make him do so. You did right."

"Tink…Hook….he told me things…"

"Yes…I know. That was what I was referring to." Her little chest heaved in dreaded anticipation of the memories she was about to tell. She had hoped she would never have to say such things out loud, and for a while, she had thought she would make it through without ever speaking of them, but so close to the end, it had come about. "I see that you understand that Peter must never remember that, so I think I can trust you with the whole ordeal, if we are to keep it from him at all costs."

Wendy's mouth let out a sullen gasp, her eyes dropping in quite exasperation, her head shaking lightly as her lids closed lightly. "Then, it is true?"

Tink nodded. "Yes. Peter Pan was once a normal little boy. Son to a mother and a father, right from the same place you come from. London. But it was all very long ago….I don't even remember the exact time, but it was a while. I'm quite sure Peter would have withered away of old age by now if he had not parted for the Neverland."

Wendy sat quietly on her ankles, listening as Tink retold the tragedy that was Peter's blessed existence.

"Back then, I resided most of the time in Kensington Gardens, although I did frequent the Neverland much, just like most of the fairies. Back then, the gardens where ours, although we had to share them with you humans during the day, hiding and slumbering in our shielded nooks while you rummaged and frolicked. The day I first laid eyes on a baby boy that seemed to glow with the very golden glow of my people, was the day I met Peter Pan. It was clear, he was no ordinary boy and it was clear, the world had something special planned for him, but I was sure, that gift would not be given in a mundane life. I followed him around after that, even leaving the safety of the gardens to look in on him during nights, peeking through his window only at first, but I eventually grew restless for his closeness, so I picked at his window's lock and began my vigil at his crib's side. Of course, I first remained by his side only, sprinkling his closed eyes with pixie dust and giving him those wondrous little dreams that only children seem to have. I know he had them, because he'd smile so much. I would flee at the first instance of his stirring, being very careful to not be seen. "

"But one night, as I simply stared at his slumbering form, a light footing behind his door drew my attention away from him momentarily, and he was such a clever baby, for he quickly flashed his eyes open, and caught me sitting on his crib's rail. I was stunned! I did not know what to do at first, but I quickly made to sprinkle him again, sending him back into sleep and making my appearance seem like another one of his golden dreams, but one look from those sparkling green eyes and that laughter, and I couldn't help it. There is nothing like a baby's first laughter. He still has it."

Wendy nodded, recalling that same mischievous blend of purity and seduction that had haunted her nights the past four years.

"I broke rules. A human child was to never see us, especially outside the gardens, but I did not care. He was mine. After that, we were inseparable, and the years passed and I saw him grow. To my heart's torment, he grew.

"Soon, I noticed he was at the age when children babble their first words, and I knew it was close to the end of us. Once children learn the language of adults, they completely forget the fairy tongue, and to remain by his side after he has crossed over, could not be possible. And so it happened, but I never left his side. I constantly fled to his window at night, just looking into my boy's nursery, and for weeks his mother did not know how to appease his restless crying and fright gripped at her, believing he suffered of colic. But you see, my boy missed me, and my heart broke to see him in such distraught, but there was nothing I could do.

After that, he grew even more. He still frequented the gardens very much, and I would stay up, but in hiding, just to watch him play. He was always the captain of his party. Leading all the little boys into adventures all throughout the gardens, from the Figs down the Baby Walk and to the water's edge of the Serpentine. He was meant to lead."

"Then" Wendy interrupted. "You know who his parents where?"

"Yes, I knew, but their faces and names are now just faded dreams."

Tinkerbell waited to see if Wendy would shush before continuing.

"He kept growing older, and at that ripe age of twelve, a child is about to descend from childhood, and my heart just tore away from me. In a way, I blame myself for wishing him to remain my boy forever. If I had known what was to happen…"

Tink broke off, turning her gaze away from Wendy as if in shame, and the girl allowed her the silence needed to recollect herself and continue.

"It was winter, and the Serpentine had frozen over. He was skating, along with so many other children, and I was looking on, hidden amongst the shrubs to the side. I saw it happen, and I could not do a thing to stop it. The ice cracked, a tiny little crack at first, but no one noticed, except me. I panicked. I thought of simply jumping out and pulling him off the pond, but I could not, for their where more fairies with me, and they would have never allowed me. He was gliding through the center when it suddenly gave way, shaking the entire surface. There was a sudden rush of parents and nannies to the pond, pulling their own frightened children out, but Peter's mother did not make it, and his father grabbed her just as she made to throw herself into the crumbling ice. I saw my little boy being swallowed by the frosted waters, his eyes wide but not a sound escaping his open mouth. His father dove right in, but the ice remained in his way. Two more men jumped to his assistance, and together they pulled him out. Unconscious and blue right down to his toes. The chill got him and…he died that very day in his own bed."

Wendy hindered a sob in her throat, drawing her eyes down, and closing them shut.

"But my wish was granted. That night, as I wept my horrid loss, my gaze was drawn up and there, standing by the serpentine, was Peter. My heart rejoiced and my tears dried, but when I came close to him, I noticed he was naked to the world and an expression of bewilderment upon his face, as if he himself did not know who or where he was. He simply stood by the water's edge, knowing it had some importance to him. I asked him where he had come from, and he just stared blankly at me, before that greedy little smile spread wide on his face and he said, "Tinkerbell! You are my fairy!"

"He had no recollection of dying, and as much as I ached to know he had done so, I could not help but feel glee. I kept my little boy, my eternal boy. But I could not keep him in the gardens, for although he was no longer living, he was still very much flesh and bone, so I consulted Queen Mab."

"The fairy queen?" Wendy asked, recalling the stories told by the children in the Gardens, of fairy royalty, fairy rings, and famous children's dealings.

"Yes. Our queen. I explained it all to her. But it was truly not difficult to gain her assistance. She felt since the very day he was born, that he was not like any other boy. Never had any mortal set sights on the Neverland, but then again, Peter was no longer mortal. She ruled as I had hoped, and we all formed a fairy ring around the boy, chanting and singing, prancing around until all was well and he found himself on the island star. Why he was stuck between worlds, the living and whatever lies after, we will most likely never know, but it is as it is, and were Peter to know his own truth, I am afraid, it might unravel the very island's existence. They are too closely connected now. If one falls, the other most likely will follow. We cannot allow that."

"But then, what is he?"

"He is as much flesh and bone as you have seen and felt, that is as far as is known, at least to me or my queen."

Wendy turned her gaze down and away from Tinkerbell, contemplating the morose story that was Pan's past. He didn't know. He didn't realize. "So…we are…to keep it from him? Is that truly right?"

Tinkerbell grew angry, lashing out the pain of the burden of keeping a secret hidden for decades. "I have not had the luxury of acting by right or wrong! I have done what I have for him! I want him at peace always! That is why I am and that is what I will strive to maintain as long as there is light within me!"

Wendy gasped, instantly regretful of speaking without thinking first. Tinkerbell had apparently dealt with greater troubles all along, and to everyone around her, it had seemed as it she was nothing more than childish creature with room for only one thought at a time in her mind. How little they had thought of her. How much more she deserved.

"I'm sorry. I will do as you wish." Wendy said.

Tinkerbell sighed heavily, throwing her head back and lifting off the best post. "No, you will not. I wish for you to have never returned. I wish for you to have never stepped foot on the Neverland. I wished that you would have never told those stories that entranced him so."

Wendy stared at the little fairy, eyes glazing over with a mixture of remorse, slight anger and growing indignity.

"But, none of it is your fault, and believe me, I've tried to find fault in you. Your too whiny for my liking, but I guess not for Peter's." she said in a defeated tone. "He truly does need you now. Whether he admits it or not. "

"If he needed me, he would have come back to me. He would have returned to London with us."

"If you really cared for him the way you're eyes show, you would have remained here, with him."

Wendy hushed, sighing lightly and staring at Tinkerbell.

"But I am not here to mend whatever it is that is broken between the two of you. I mend pots, not hearts."

"So" Wendy said, drawing in a deep breath. "What are we to do?"

"I don't know. For now, just keep Peter away from the Jolly Roger and away from Hook. Try to find out all that he knows and keep yourself out of harm. If I know Peter, he will be upset with you, yes. He holds a grudge as long as he remembers, but any indication of you in peril, and he will come flying. I will tell him that I keep an eye on you and that you are well. As soon as I figure something else out…I'll let you know."

"Fine." Wendy said. "But Charles. He does not need to be here. Tink, can you help him back home?"

"I will do what I can. Do not worry yourself." With that, Tinkerbell flew towards the window, lifting the latch and opening it to speed off into the night. Wendy shut it one more and off to bed she went. Sleep finally overcoming her after two long arduous days.

* * *

**Hmm….quite slow….I know….but sorry….that's how I had planned it to be.**


	17. Mutiny

**Author's Note:** A gazillion apologies for the loooooooong delay. Really…I feel terrible. You see, the story was always present, but the actual words were being stubborn and hiding from me. I'll try to update more often. The good news is that I think this is almost done. :) The bad news is…I'm always revising. Sorry. Also, I like replying to you if you post any sort of question or a comment that I think needs a reply…so be so kind as to leave an email address so that I may do so. That is of course, if you wish to be bothered by the likes of me.

**FYI **- I sometimes post updates on the status and content of chapters and other PP stories in the works in my LiveJournal. Check up in there if you don't feel like waiting around for chapter posts. Link through my author page.

**Attention:** I am in desperate need of a beta. Anyone out there interested? Requirements: Proper grasp of the English language and commendable knowledge of grammar, spelling, syntax, blah blah blah.

* * *

**Ch. 17: Mutiny **

Charles had waited by the shores near the anchorage of the Jolly Roger, safely concealed by the forest's vegetation from the lookout on the ship. Not that there was much of a lookout. Apparently, they had had themselves a merry little celebration, drunken clamoring audible from the ship's deck. It instilled great fear in him as to what they would have to feel so joyous about. After all, it was a ship of depraved and quite possibly lonely men, who had most likely not seen a woman in ages. Stories of pirate sodomy on the high seas and ravaged women from plundered towns had been known to him from the accounts his eldest brother had brought back from his service on the queen's navy.

He fought the urge to protest when Peter ordered that he'd remain behind while he would sneak aboard the ship for Wendy. Peter, of course, gave no reasoning or explanation for his order, but Charles knew it was most tactful. He could not fly as well as Peter, and it is easier for one to move undetected than two. Now, he watched the distance between himself and the spot on the ship's rail from which Peter's form had disappeared as he descended unto the deck, eagerly waiting to see Wendy appear by Peter's side. But much to his disappointment, Peter sped out from behind the boat, circling at its stern near the water's level, rushing towards the island.

"Pan!" Charles cried out as Peter flew almost completely past him.

Peter stopped abruptly, not turning around to face him. "She is not to leave just now."

Charles mouth dropped open, a low huff audible as his head jerked forward. "What?"

"Wendy does not wish to leave just yet." He believed that explanation to be sufficient, so he started his way towards the underground home again.

Charles glared absently into space, his mouth still hung open and his brow frowning in bewilderment. When he heard the leaves give way as Pan flew through them, he snapped out of his daze and began running after the boy. "Wait! Come back!" He clamored. "Pan!"

Peter ceased his flight, and huffed deeply, lowering his feet to the ground. He turned around and crossed his arms before him, a face with no other expression but indifferent anger. Charles made his way through the protruding branches and leaves, still calling out for the boy until he came within his sights. He stopped feet before him, breathing hard from his mad dash through the forest. "What do you mean, she does not wish to leave?"

"I mean, she does not wish to leave." Peter stated rather irritated at having to repeat himself.

"She said so?"

"Yes." Wendy had exhausted his patience, and very little was left for Charles, who was making bad use of it.

"Why?"

"How should I know? I don't understand girls."

Charles was still confused and he would have kept pressing on for explanations but there were more dire matters and the sensible beast in him spoke. "Never mind all that. Go back and get her!"

"I cannot take her if she does not wish to leave!" Peter said through clenched teeth, his face contorting in excited anger.

"I do not care! You must have misunderstood!..."

"I did not! She told me to leave! She said she'd find her own escape when she deemed it was time to do so!"

But Charles was having none of that. "Never mind what she said! Return for her at once."

Peter's head tilted to the side, his gaze growing fiercer. "Are you commanding me?"

"Yes!"

"No one commands me!"

"This is not about you boy!"

"I am captain here! No one commands me!"

"Blast you and your narcissism! We have no time for it! If you will not return for her, than I shall do it myself." He turned around and quickly placed distance between them, crashing through the greenery. Peter stood with his mouth hung open but just as Charles was disappearing from sight, he rushed to catch up, appearing before him in a flash.

"No!" He fiercely yelled, drawing his sword out. "I lead! I command! My word is your order! Wendy is mother and she has given her word, which is my order!"

"To hell with you, Pan!" Patience waned and tempers soared. Charles thrust his forearm against Peter's sword swatting it away and ignoring the threat. He pushed past Peter and continued towards the shore in path to the Jolly Roger, but just as the sea's waters reached his shins, a blow to the back of his head blackened his world and threw him out of consciousness. With a grunt he fell forward but Peter snagged him by the back of his collar before his face hit the water and threw him over his shoulders. It took him a moment to gain his center well enough to take flight and off into the woods he returned, a step before the lookout returned to his post at the crow's nest.

Aboard the ship, the crew drank and sang to their heart's content, happy to be allowed a night off by the captain, who had placed them all in constant surveillance of the skies and waters since he appeared before them at Skull Cove, where the remainder of the crew had managed to unite after their defeat years ago. Life aboard the ship since their appearance at the Neverland had been a nightmare. It dismayed each and every one of them that their Captain would not even allow an attempt to escape the island's hold, until they came to see, that it was the boy's blood that would trigger their leave. Since then, they stopped at nothing-unless it was Hook's order to stop-at laying traps and capturing the boy, and now that they felt their stay was near the end, they felt anger that Hook's plans seemed to be unraveling by his own hook and hand.

"We should have been at twelve knots by now." Cookson bellowed, taking a swig of his rum and wiping the spill on his chin with the back of his hand.

"Patience. That's all we can do….be patient." Starky responded, pouring more rum into his mug.

"I just don't get the cap'n! He wants the boy's death, but he just prances around him. Even now that he returned to us so determined! I thought it was to be different! I thought we were to snag the girl and lure Pan to the ship! Ambush and rip apart! One day's work and done!"

"Shhhh…." Starky hushed him, turning around to make sure Hook had not snuck up behind them. "Do you want a peephole right between your brows?"

"Blast Hook!"

"Quiet you idiot!" Starky yelped, slapping the pirate with a back handed blow. Cookson toppled over to his side, his rum still safely in his hands although much had spilled onto the deck. "We know not why the cap'n lingers in his plans! And as bloody tired as I am of this hell, we cannot question him! It will be our lives!"

Cookson righted himself on the floor and stared at Starky menacingly before taking another insatiable gulp of his rum.

* * *

"What happened?" Nibs was the first to reach Peter when he flew out of the eastern shaft, although everyone was immediately concerned when they noticed Charles thrown over his shoulder. 

Peter dropped him on the ground with less than considerable care, allowing Nibs to inspect him. "He's all right." Peter said, floating over Charles and Nibs towards the weapons pail, where he placed his sword.

"So, you didn't kill him?" Tweed asked. A bit disappointed, he threw away the stick he'd picked up to poke at the unconscious man.

"No." He replied, taking a swig of water from a cup left on the table and wiping his chin with his forearm.

"Where's Wendy?" John asked. He turned the boys' thoughts away from the wild scenarios their imaginations were producing to account for Charles' present state; scenarios in which they all saw Peter pushing him off a cliff.

Peter took a deep breath and turned his eyes to John. "Aboard the Jolly Roger."

The room resonated with surprised gasps of fear and urgency, each one crying out that they should ambush the pirate ship at once, but Peter only stood silent, a small frown on his lips, but carefully disguised by a show of indifference.

"Peter! Are we not to save her?" Curly asked.

He turned to look at the ex-lost boy, so very much not lost anymore. "No." He simply stated.

"Peter!" Michael cried.

"Why heavens not?" John continued.

"I don't know." Peter walked to his thrown and took his seat, facing all in the room as they stared back at him, gaping mouths and questioning eyes all around.

"You don't know?" Tootles asked, his whimpering almost audible.

"I tried to save her. But she just wasn't having it. Fine. She wants to do this on her own. I say let her." He said, throwing one leg over the throne's armrest. He took out his pipe and started playing a merry little tune, his eyes fixed into space.

"But, Peter." Michael approached their captain. "I don't want Wendy to stay on the Jolly Roger. Can't we please go get her?"

Peter paused his playing, his eyes still gazing absently into space. He turned to look at Michael, the little boy's face so sullen. "No." He gently said. "Your mother said she is to stay aboard the ship, until she deems herself ready to leave."

The boys again, voiced their disbelief. Slightly moved closer to Peter, stopping just feet behind Michael. "Is that what she said?"

"Yes. And enough questions. You're all as bad as that man over there."

"Is that why you clubbed him over the head?" Curly blurted out, causing Peter to pull his pipe away from his lips just as he was about to continue his melody. "I grow bored." He lifted off his seat and landed on the ground and walked towards his private room.

"Peter! But Wendy…"

"Enough!" Peter yelled turning around. "It was not me who decided this! It was her! You don't like it! Take it up with her whenever she feels like leaving Captain Hook and returning to you! This is no longer my concern!"

No more arguments or pleading would be allowed, so they simply silenced. Tootles, the gentlest of them all, was at the edge of tears while the rest only stared at each other, wide eyed. Peter disappeared behind the animal hide and into his room. There really was no use in contesting Peter, especially when he was in a foul mood, so the Darling children only sulked quietly, wondering and trying to plan their next move. When he really couldn't stand the idea of his sister remaining on the ship any longer, Nibs courageously sprang to his feet and marched to Peter's room, but the boy was sound asleep with another of his night tremors haunting him, making him jerk about in his make-shift bed, so Nibs discarded the idea of protesting and returned to his seat. He didn't notice the tear stains on his pillow or make out the mumblings in between his cries.

It seemed that for the past 2 days, waiting around inside the underground home was all they had been doing, the itch to go out and explore the island once again was gripping at each and every one of them. Except for John, who'd had his fill of the island for the remainder of his life.

* * *

Wendy slept but not peacefully. In her dreams, her worries spun images of the once enchanting island distorted by a cloak of eerie darkness. She ran through the forest, the trees barren and protruding branches slicing at her bare arms as she stumbled past them. Ravens cackled and the croc growled, but whether she was running to the beast or away, she didn't know. She opened her mouth to cry out for Peter, but not a sound was made and she gripped at her throat, running and crying for any sort of release. It was a dark wonderland, and she was Alice in search of her home. Hook's voice resonated calling out for "Miss Darling" soothingly and compassionately, telling her not to fear for he'd soon bring it all to a close. But Peter's voice echoed in return, reminding her he was king on the island and it was by his hands that she'd be free. Then there was Charles. He spoke to her and she felt his gentle touch on her palm although he was nowhere in sight. A brush of finger tips on her cheeks, wiping away the tears but there was no hand. A sort of calm rang through her soul, but which entity brought it about could not be clear. There was a savior. There was hope. There was love. But from who? From what? 

The voices continued, each trying to out do the other two. Strong and commanding presences that promised to make the darkness dissipate. Then there was a sudden flash of metal in the distance, bright and curiously attracting. She made her way to it and saw the shadowed figures of two fighting, blades out and movements spaced out in surreal time. Hook's eyes gleamed red and Peter cocked his legendary smile. Battle cries rang throughout and the croc appeared between the pirate and Pan and Wendy. It lunged at Hook, chomping for another taste of the captain. Pan and his foe parted to opposite ends, dodging the beast's jaws. Then there was a fourth voice, inhuman and demonic. "You don't belong here; not anymore."

The croc turned around, it's eyes glowing a crimson red but it was not to Hook or Wendy that it spoke, it was to Peter. The boy was frozen in stone, his smile permanent and his eyes on Wendy always. Hook grinned in his own still stature and Wendy watched in horror as the croc lunged to devour Peter.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO….!" She cried out and the nightmare was gone. She found herself in the plush bed and droplets of sweat trickling down her brow. A jingle of keys in the lock of the door drew her attention and Smee entered, rushing to her side. "Are you alright Miss?" he asked worried, looking around to make sure there was no one else in the room.

"Yes…" she whispered hoarsely, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Then it dawned on her that she hadn't fallen asleep with it on. "It was just a bad dream."

Smee smiled placidly. "Yes…to many of those around here."

"Thank you for the blanket, Mr. Smee".

"Oh, you best be thanking the cap'n. He thought you'd be a bit chilly."

What was Hook doing? Why was he so kind to her? He'd been a perfect gentleman before, but it was to a foul means. It was to get to Peter, through her. Perhaps it was the same this time around, and yet something made her feel as though it was not.

"Aw, miss." Smee interrupted her thoughts. "You are to be escorted back to the cap'n."

He left the room to allow her to freshen up and then led her to the Captain's quarters where Hook was busy at his harpsichord. She entered the room and Hook turned to her, his fingers still creating the enchanting melody that sounded like wings of a hawk gracefully gliding through a turbulent wind. Powerful and beautiful, and needless to say entrancing.

Smee led her to a plush seat next to the instrument and left the room, leaving only Hook and his muse. When the song was over, he laid his hand and hook to rest on the keys, turning to look at his prisoner.

"You are an accomplished musician, captain."

"I've studied in the best schools the Queen's land has to offer. And this is a divine instrument itself. Taken from a noble family on their way to the Americas."

"It's a pity that such lovely music has such horrid origins. I dare not ask of what became of those whom it use to belong to."

"Perhaps it is best if you don't. I fear their fates would be too gruesome for a lady's delicate nature." He said with a playfully mocking tone.

Wendy remained quiet, making Hook's desire for her to speak even greater. Anything at all, he would talk about if it meant they could carry on with a conversation. "Would you care for something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

He searched his mind for another conversation starter, but Wendy did that for him. " Captain, may I inquire about a previous subject?"

He grinned. "You mean…Pan's origin?"

"No…" The only thing she wished to know is that Hook was going to keep it to himself and never mention it to Peter. But that was only wishful thinking. "Your hatred. Your vengeance. Your need for his blood. Why?"

"My, you are an inquisitive damsel, aren't you?" He played a few notes of a mesmerizing melody. "I loathe the boy. That is all you need to know."

"But why? Such hatred…it must have a reason….why?"

He stabbed his hook into the small side table next to him, sending a water goblet crashing to the floor. She flinched and gasped, staring at the menacing weapon. He sneered but her frightened gaze troubled him, which was odd for such reactions usually served to heighten his enjoyment.

"Miss Darling." He said softly. Her gaze traveled slowly to his eyes and he regretted having burst out like that with her. "You should learn to value your own well being. Do not bother a beast of prey. You will get mauled."

Was there a hint of caring in his words? "So you can be kind?"

"I can be many things, Miss." He said softly. "It is only this place that binds me to the role of villain. As soon as this story's climax is done with, I will be free."

"You wish to free yourself by killing another? That is not an answer."

"It is the only answer. His death, or mine. It is the only way. I don't expect such a young girl to know that."

"It doesn't have to end so."

"Oh yes it does."

Silence fell upon them both, and then Wendy thought of another question that remained since their last conversation. "Captain, you said the rules changed when he brought us here. Why?"

Hook frowned. "Where you not aware?" He asked, somewhat smiling.

"Aware of what?"

"How many girls do you think have visited the island? How many do you think he's brought to his home?"

She stared into space, pondering a question that had never been raised in her own thoughts. "I don't know."

Hook grinned an empty grin. "One." He played a soft melody, morose and sultry. "My guess is that deep down, he knew the rules. Only the non-living were allowed. And boys at that. But you caught his interest. You caught his eye. Can't say I blame the boy."

Wendy sat quietly, feeling very imbecilic for feeling flattered by his last comment, and she dared not show it upon her face.

"You know…I have a question for you now." He said, still playing the tune. "Never have I known you to voice fear for your own life, although I know you've felt it. And now…you show even less inclination to do so. Why are you so…brave? For a woman, that is."

"Bravery has nothing to do with it. I simply…don't see you inflicting harm on me. You seem to lack the ability." She said plainly.

Hook chuckled, the melody changing to a more dramatic set, lower pitch and faster stronger strikes of the keys. "Oh really? And why do you feel so…safe?"

"Because" she said, lightly cocking her head to the side. "You still need me for your plans. What good would I be to you dead?"

"Your right. I wouldn't kill you. But what makes you think I wouldn't simply break a bone or place a pretty little red streak down your back?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps I see thatthere is more to you than meets the eye. Perhaps, I can see the gentleman that lies within Captain Hook of the Jolly Roger."

* * *

A bit later, Snowchime returned carrying a little sack small enough to fit in a human palm but as big as her tiny body. 

"Where did you run off to?" Slightly asked.

"Silly…you can't fool me….fairies don't run." She smirked at her own cleverness.

Slightly shook his head and tried again. "I mean…where did you go?"

"Oh…well, Tink ordered me to take the man back" She glanced at Charles and her grin quickly faded. She turned to everyone, asking what had happened. Kip quickly filled her in, adding his own dramatic details to the story. She huffed, moving the disheveled strands of hair that rested before her eyes, chiming about how she had collected and boiled the alaycia petals – a concoction the fey had learned placed the unsuspecting mortal into a comatose state for hours on end- for nothing.

She placed the sack on the table and made her way to Charles, inspecting him from all angles before resting on the tip of his nose and pulling up his eyelid by the eyelashes. Noticing no reaction at all, she decided to take him as he was and perhaps he'd awake later, thinking it had all been a fantasy. She gathered a blanket from the drawers and began to wrap it around him, but her hasty movements of his body stirred him. Just as she'd finished tying the ends of the blanket together, her bundle began jostling about, trying to find a way out of the confines.

"Easy there!" Snowchime moved away and to Heath's shoulders while Curly helped him out of the blankets and offered a hand to help him to his feet. She frowned at the development and considered returning to her initial plan of poisoning his water to knock him right back out.

Charles waited for his eyesight to come into focus and his jumbled thoughts to settle before speaking one word. "How did I get back here?" But before anyone could answer, he remembered Wendy's dire situation.

"Wendy!" He grabbed Curly's hand, almost taking him down with him when his weak legs fumbled below him. "She's still aboard the pirate's ship! Grab your weapons! Hurry!"

Michael ran to get a sword and Tootles began to follow but the rest only remained in place.

"We…uh" Juni mumbled.

"Peter said…" Kip offered.

Charles stared down each boy, growing angrier as each cast his gaze down and away from his. "Are you seriously going to allow your sister to remain in the scoundrel's possession? Because….Pan said so?"

No one answered.

"This is ridiculous! You follow what that boy says so religiously! Your sister needs your help, and you plan on doing nothing simply because that's his whim!"

"He is captain." Heath offered. "He knows best when it comes to the pirates."

"He knows nothing!" Charles said through clenched teeth. He searched through his pockets but found nothing. "Blast! I lost my watch! How long have I been out?" He asked sternly and with much urgency.

"Um…a few hours is my best guess…" John offered.

"God! We have no more time to waste! Will _anyone_ do the honorable thing and aid me?"

Snowchime watched fearfully but when no one answered his call, she sighed with relief. She just knew Tinkerbell would find a way to blame it on her if they any of them returned to the ship. "He musn't go! None of you should!" she cried out in fey and rushed to fill a cup with water from the drip in the wall.

"What is she squealing about!" Charles asked exasperated. She continued mumbling in her language about how she wasn't about to fail in her first big assignment. The boys understood, even though the older Darling children had to strain and focus to comprehend, but none of them informed Charles of what she said.

"Tink says it is best for him to return home!" She continued rambling. With her back to Charles she tried to inconspicuously pour the concoction from the vile into the drink while he continued to harangue the boys for their unwillingness to cooperate, but he was not so easily duped and when she tried to feed him the cup, he gently but sternly swatted her away.

Snowchime sneered and considered clubbing him over the head with a stool but Juni quickly wrapped his hand around her and dragged her attention to himself. He looked somewhat saddened, as if needing for Charles to go on as he pleased. Against her better judgment and will to succeed, she relented and sulked in silence.

Charles wasted no more time and rushed up the tunnel stairs, running out into the forest, stopping momentarily to map out the way to the ship in his mind. The boys remained behind, still silent and torn between their duty to their sister and their duty to their father. Confused glances abounded, and it was Michael who finally gave in to his desires and marched over to retrieve a sword. The rest of the Darling children looked at him, in somewhat disbelief that he was about to disobey a direct order. He turned to his natural brother before rushing out the same way Charles left. Not wanting to be outdone by his younger brother, John gathered all the courage he could find within himself and followed Michael, hastily grabbing a sword. The rest of the Darling children soon did the same, each giving in one at a time, feeling remorse for their betrayal.

Now, only the recent lost boys remained, for they felt no real duty towards the Wendy lady. But just as Snowchime was about to thank the boys for not following in such mutiny, Juni turned away to attain his own blade, turning around to look at the stunned faces of his fellow men.

"Juni!" Heath called out.

"I…without Peter…they'll need all the help they can get."

"No!" Heath commanded, or rather pleaded. He walked towards the younger boy, shaking his head and urging him with his gaze to put his weapon away.

"But all of those boys have been out of the pirate thrashing business for a long time now! They'll get slaughtered!"

"No…" Heath whispered sternly.

But Juni only smiled kindly and held on to his sword tighter. His permanent smile faded and his eyes lost their glee. "Heath…I…don't remember much anymore. But…I do remember…stories…that my father told me. My mother… she had the prettiest blue eyes, he said. Sort of like…that Wendy person. My mother might have left me…but…she'll be someone's mother…someday. And who am I to deny another boy…a mother like her?"

It was awkward for any of them to hear Juni speak with so much emotion, for the boy never showed any sign of sadder thoughts. They knew this was of importance to him, and reluctantly, Heath followed him. Taking a sword from the pail himself, he smiled at his friend. "Where ever you go…I go."

Juni looked at his best friend, and smiled lightly. "Thank you" he whispered and off they went. Snowchime smacked her forward, whining and sulking. She was about to thank the two boys left for not following in such a stupid act, but Tweed and Kip looked at each other, sighed and did just as they had, leaving as quietly as they could so as to not be caught by their captain. The fairy sighed angrily but followed the boys, remembering that it was her most important duty to remain by their side at all times.


	18. Raid on the Jolly Roger

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. **

**  
**Beta: Cheetalee  
**

* * *

Chapter 18: The Raid on the Jolly Roger  
**

"I think you need to fly," Nibs whispered.

The boys remained within the shadows of the bushes on the cliff near the Jolly Roger. Another day was at a close, and dusk was rolling by. Nibs had said it was the best time to attack, even if the pirates knew they most likely would at this time. Dark skies were always an advantage for creatures of flight.

Charles kept his eyes on the ship, noting every slight movement, every lamp that was lit, and listening for any sound that would make it to his ears. "Don't waste the fairy dust on me. I'm no good off the ground."

"The biggest advantage a lost boy has over a pirate is flight," Curly interjected. "Those that had remained on the ground have not always made it." His words were simple, and Charles didn't ask for an explanation.

"It's not that I don't want to, it's that I just can't seem to fly all that well. Not like the rest of you."

"Then perhaps Snowchime can be of assistance to you," Heath offered. Snowchime turned to look at the boy straight in the eye, rather miffed at being offered to him in such an off-hand manner. "Come on, Snowchime," he said, batting his eyelashes. She scoffed but nodded, leaping off his shoulder and flitting to Charles', and blew fairy dust in his face.

"So what will the plan be, gents?" Slightly asked, whetting his blade with a rock.

"Same as always, I suppose. Nothing ever changes around here, right?" Nibs sat, plunging the tip of his sword into the ground, allowing it to stand there.

Erin turned his back to the bush, following Nibs' example and planted himself on the ground. "Nothing is _supposed_ to change," he muttered

Indeed, things _had_ changed, were _definitely_ different. Nights came quicker than before, and lasted longer as well. Before, Hook usually waited several moons before attempting another scheme or kidnapping, unlike this time. Tink was gone more, off to who-knows-where and doing who-knows-what. And then there was Peter -- he had grown. The one who had vowed to never grow had grown. It scared each of the no-longer-lost boys, for they knew something had to be amiss with the island and with Peter's very being for such a thing to happen. But Peter had either not noticed or was ignoring it, and if they remembered the unspoken rules correctly, what Peter didn't know or speak of, no one should.

"So, what's the plan then?" Charles asked. He was growing rather impatient, every passing minute worse than the previous one. His thoughts ran wild with images of Wendy in dreadful danger at the hands of Hook. He'd thought of telling Peter about his little revelation about the pirate's desires for her, but then he'd stopped himself. Peter was just a child. _He wouldn't understand,_ he told himself.

"Well, usually we just attack. Take them by surprise," Kip answered.

"Swoop down and scare the wits out of the crew," Tootles added. "Someone rushes to the bowels of the ship and frees whoever it is that Hook's captured."

"Who will do the rushing?" Charles leaned against his blade, still vigilant, eyes firmly on the ship.

"Well, you need a fairy with you to undo any locks and bindings, so I suppose it will be you."

"So … the lot of you will fight off a horde of pirates?" the young man asked somewhat skeptically. "A lot of grown men with no scruples or morals to keep them from running you through?

"Of course!" Tweed answered very proudly. "It's what we do, and we do it very well!."

"And those that have not made it out …" Charles asked, turning to Nibs, "they …"

"Um, expired," Nibs blurted out, nodding his head and keeping his eyes down.

"But … such a thing hardly ever happens," Slightly interjected. "Peter has a keen sense of danger, you know. Very primitive and quite useful. He can spot an enemy's approach … four hundred meters away … even when asleep. He usually swoops down at the very last possible second and saves the bloody lot of us from any pirate or Indian's _murderous_ hands."

The younger children nodded in agreement with wide secure smiles on their faces; but the older ones didn't smile, but worried and mapped out their own movements, praying for their safety on this mission. Sometime between what they thought had been their final moments in Neverland and their return to the island, the boys had lost their sense of pure enjoyment when it came to warfare. But that was not their chief difficulty with it, for it was not simply a change within themselves they noticed, but a change in the winds; the air around the Jolly Roger. This time felt so very unlike any other. They knew it was for good that they followed the man, but so much about this felt so very wrong.

Perhaps it was because they left without Pan's permission, against his wishes even.

vvvvvvvv

Wendy spent the rest of the day in Hook's company, both pleasant and unpleasant conversation filling the room with a life that had been long unknown to the latter. Her impertinence and smugness irritated him, but it also stirred a sort of smile, not that he'd show it. He was so uncharacteristically hospitable toward the girl, ordering their meal to be served when he thought she would be hungry, and constantly asking if she'd like her goblet replenished.

They spoke about the idlest of things that, for the life of him, he really didn't know why. She'd ask about his ship and his crew, and he'd ask about her life in London. But when she touched on the matter of his life before Neverland, his face had grown grim and he quite harshly stated that that was a life he could not even think about until things were settled in the present. Silence reigned for a moment while she gathered her thoughts to steer the conversation in a more productive path and he returned to the matter of her own life.

"How have these four years treated you, Miss Darling?"

"Well. Nothing to dire to protest about. I've lived quite a peaceful life … that is until you barged right back into it."

"Do you resent that?" he asked, cocking his eyebrows in mid question.

She held her gaze on him, the very visible smirk now pulling up at the left corner of his lips. _How was she to answer? Hook invaded her life, kidnapped Charles and ignited the town. _

After the police had arrived at the scene and tried to piece together the odd spectacle via numerous accounts of "Pirates! Bloody pirates!" and "It's the Darling children! Wendy Darling was their mark!" she'd been met by wide and scrutinizing eyes; the murmurs once again audible and she found herself drowning in the gossip. The police interrogated her and her parent to no end, drawing upon the still-unresolved events surrounding the children's disappearance years before.

It was a mystery, and for the better part of the past four years, they were told that the event must have been so traumatizing that they blocked all memory from thought, which she and her brothers had eventually come to believe. Wendy thought she was becoming insane, believing her own fantasies as the truth, and the thought of what she might be repressing truly horrified her (for she had heard of the new theories of Dr. Freud). The police suggested to Mr. and Mrs. Darling that she be inspected for any sign of assault, but both refused to do so, needing to believe that their children remained untouched. Wendy did not understand why she shouldn't undergo the "inspection" and her mother was finally forced to pull her daughter aside and discuss the more factual aspects of "the more." She jumped back cried out that nothing of the sort happened. But, as time passed, even that came into question.

She thought all was in the past, and that life was once again quiet and plain, just as it was meant to be. Charles was to be her husband and she was to take her place in society as a true lady of stature. Life was finally right and then _he_ returned and destroyed it all.

Yes, she resented him for destroying that illusion of normalcy.

But then, there was Peter.

Hook's reappearance meant Peter's reappearance, and had she not thought of him in her dreams every night since the day they parted? Had she not seen those piercing green eyes in her nights? That heavenly glow from his being lighting the path through the world of slumber? That sun-warmed hand stretched out for hers. That entrancing smile, so knowing, so alluring. Even when he was forced into golden dust and tucked away in the drawers of her mind, she heard him call for one more game, one more dance. If Hook had not returned, Peter would have not returned, and he would have been just a twinkle of a memory she would have felt when glancing up at a full silver moon or a rising sun or a blooming flower. Now she _knew_ he was very real and no amount of pretending could make him return to that drawer.

"Yes," she answered truthfully.

But noting the sullenest in her response, Hook pressed on. "And, why do you resent it?"

She knew she didn't have to answer honestly. Hook would never know the truth, but she felt she had to say it, perhaps just so she could hear it. "There are things best left in our past. There are things best remembered as childhood dreams."

"I fully agree with you, my beauty."

Wendy jerked her head up, planting a fierce gaze upon Hook. "Let us get one thing straight here, captain. I am not _your _beauty. I am not _your _darling. My given name is Wendy Moira Angela Darling, and a gentleman such as yourself should abide by etiquette, and call me by a proper title."

Hook chuckled, stroking his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "You're a brazen young woman, aren't you? My, my, my. So very strong-willed and brave. Foolish even, to speak to her captor so, as if you are the one in control. Remember, my beauty, that you are in my possession, and I may do and say as I please."

"Then go ahead, captain; do as you wish. Put a gun to my head. Slash my throat. Feed me to the sea. I dare you, Captain Jas Hook." She sounded foolish and remarkably dimwitted to dare a pirate to do away with a prisoner, but she was so sure the captain wouldn't do any such thing. As far as she knew, she was merely a pawn in their game and if Hook wanted his prize, he'd need her as bait. Without her, he'd never get Pan.

Finally, the cocky shine in the corner of her eye overtook Hook, as he saw the boy's intrusion in the girl's perfectly refined form. She taunted him without a mere whisk of fear and that angered the captain to no end, for the girl had the upper hand.

"Wench!" he cried out, turning the table over and sending the plates and remains of food crashing to the floor. Wendy flinched with surprise and sudden fear, keeping her wide eyes firmly on him as he quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed her by the wrist, hurling her to his bed. She landed with a subtle bounce and scurried to get up and off but Hook was quickly on top of her, pinning her back down and flat on the mattress, his hand holding her right arm down securely with his elbow holding down her other arm. She kicked her legs about until he managed to restrain them with his knees. He brought the sharp tip of his hook to her throat, halting her frantic movement, her breathing harsh and abrupt. He pressed his hook to her skin and she stretched her head up to keep away from the cold steel, her neck muscles strained and every swallow evident to her captor.

"Do you still think me feeble,_ my_ beauty!" he questioned, repositioning himself to place greater weight on her. "I don't need to slit your throat or make you walk that plank to truly harm you."

He slid the tip of his hook down her throat and to her chest, grazing her skin which shivered below the touch of the cold steel. He ripped at the neckline of her dress and she flinched, her breath stalled in her throat. He kept his eyes on hers, even as he leaned in closer and his upper body came into too near contact to her own. Wendy kept her gaze on him as well, only breaking free when he looked away to bring his lips to her ear, not touching but hot breath trickling on her skin. She turned away from him, tightly shutting her eyes closed and fruitlessly willing herself to remain calm. But her body was not heeding her demands and it took a will of its own.

Such a position she found herself in flustered her to no end. His weight immediately above her and his movement bringing it into brushing contact with her own. It disturbed her that she found herself bothered by the feel of his body. How could she not? Such proximity to any male was unknowns to her, with the exception of Peter and Hook, himself. But those distinct episodes in her youth were no comparison to this.

With Peter, she'd been the one who'd sought him out. He'd stared at her with tragically lost eyes, somewhat empty as if the boy no longer inhabited the broken being that lay on the deck. It had been an affection more out of lingering hope and a mournful goodbye, and she'd been the one to give and caress. Even when she was ripped away from him, Peter did nothing to get her back. He didn't fidget, or flinch, no reaction from his eyes other than simple self-concerned content.

And Charles, what was she to think of him? The proper gentleman of form and etiquette; never venturing to do more than offer his arm or grace her gloved hand with a polite press of his lips. There were things she knew about before most girls, she was sure; and those things were discovered here in the island of never ending childhood, with a boy who vowed to remain a boy and nothing else. A boy who fled from those things he'd helped kindle within her soul. And this _man_, who now grasped her in his possession, had been the one to treat her like the woman she had found within herself. This pirate had sought her out, and further, helped nurture that kindled fire.

He'd even told her that she was his new obsession, and how she'd loved to hear that!

But this was wrong. So very wrong. She shouldn't feel such things when with Hook. She shouldn't feel such things with anyone but the one she was to belong to.

Just as the light of the day completely dispersed, a jumbled mash of whopping and growls was heard coming from the deck. The door flew open, and Smee barged in stopping in his tracks when he witnessing Hook and Wendy's compromising position. But there was no time to entertain any ideas and Smee quickly blurted, "The brats have come for Miss Darling!"

Hook immediately rose to his feet and Wendy made to rush to the door, but not one foot was planted on the boards before Hook pushed her back down with an effortless shove of his hand on her chest. "You remain here!" he yelled, and Smee gathered Hook's pistols and sword, handing the latter to the captain and followed him out the door, slamming it shut with a jingle of keys in the lock.

Wendy scuttled to her feet and to the door, pulling at the doorknob but it didn't budge. Out of frustration, she slammed the sides of her fists against the thick wood screaming out for Peter and the rest. _To hell with Hook and any hope for peace and truce._

Outside the cabin doors, Hook's eyes feverishly searched the ship and skies for Pan from the slight platform, ignoring the rest of the boy's scraggly crew, leaving the spawn to his men. He had waited patiently for Pan to show up, expecting him past midnight of the night before, but to his wonderment he didn't hear the boy's battle cry, and looking around now, he saw no sign of him either. This was most upsetting. He was now sure that the boy and the girl had had some sort of discord about the young Mr. Terwood, but he wouldn't have thought Peter would be so angered as to leave his Wendy in the hands of his mortal enemy.

"Pan!" he cried out but to no avail. Neither a crow nor a mocking reply reached his ears. Around him, the battle roared and behind him, Wendy's banging on the door ceased, but he paid it no mind. She was trapped behind that door, and he stood before it, her only means of escape.

Wendy turned away from the door, looking around the elegant quarters for anything that might help her escape; the armoire, desk, shelves overflowing with books, maps and charts, drawers and other such pieces of fine furnishings. Then her eyes came to rest on the stain glass window. It was funny that she hadn't paid much mind to it on previous visits, but then again, it was never open. It seemed to form a permanent seal with the wall around it. She quickly made her way to it, tugging at the latch up and down, side to side, but the blasted thing wouldn't budge. Long intricate curves of steel ran throughout the golden-hued glass, so there would be no point in breaking it, she'd never be able to squeeze out. She turned her back to the window, leaning against its surface and cursed herself for not having fled with Peter.

Charles battled with Mason, slowly making his way to the stairways that led below deck, but he didn't make a dash for it, knowing that Hook remained perched up high near his cabin, watching the battle with such a scrutinizing gaze. But once he saw the man turn and face the door, Charles lunged fully at the pirate, pushing him backwards and over the ship's rail, into the water with a mighty splash. He looked up to Hook, but the captain still stood with his back to the ship. Charles turned to Snowchime who as ordered, remained by his side and both disappeared into the stairway to the cells.

"You should see all of your precious boys out here! It would warm a mother's heart to see how loved and wanted she was!" Hook shouted through the door for Wendy to hear.

She pushed off from the window and walked toward the door. "Enjoy yourself, Captain! Peter and my boys will have me out of your grotesque ship soon enough!"

"Oh but you mustn't include Pan in that thought," he taunted, making Wendy come closer to the door, until she was but only paces away. "It's just the boys and your young man. No Pan in sight. Hmmm. I must have been wrong earlier. Perhaps, you really … don't mean what I thought you meant to him. Blast. I guess I can be wrong on occasions."

He chuckled seemingly to himself, but in truth for her to hear. He remained with his ear to the door, but no quirky retort of any kind came from behind the wood, so he turned away and resumed his vigil for any sign of the golden boy, but his mind quickly turned to another. Terwood was nowhere in sight either. He wandered around the edge of platform, looking around for the young man but he almost instantly knew where he was. "Smee!" Hook yelled for the bo'son. "Tell Mullins to rush to the cells. We have a daring rescuer on our hands."

Smee hurried down the stairs, pistols in hand ready to fire at any boy that might get in his way, although such was not needed. He was, after all, their favorite and none would ever think of hurting the bo'son. But Nibs was just below the platform, fending off two pirates from himself and Michael, his form as elegant as ever, with a few punches thrown in between. It struck him as odd that Hook did not leave the platform at any time, as a lion stuck by his prey, keeping the spoils to himself. And furthermore, he didn't rush after Charles, but rather, sent one of his lowly dogs instead.

"Michael!" Nibs landed a fist into the pirate's groin, sending him to the floor in a heap of pain. Bad form, but it was most effective. "We have to get Hook away from his cabindoor!" he said, loud enough for only Michael's ears.

"Why?" Michael questioned, as both boys parted to dodge a flying dagger that hissed passed them and dug into the wooden wall behind. The pirate that threw the blade made his way to collect it, but Tweed landed a masterful blow to the back of his head, putting him out of commission.

"Wendy's in the cabin! Not below deck!"

"How do you know?"

"Stop asking and let's get going! Rush up the stairs and I'll draw him away from you! Get Wendy out!"

With that, Michael fought his way to the stairs and Nibs leapt up into the air, coming face to face with Hook. "Hey Hookie!" Nibs smiled and Hook clawed at him but only managed to rip through air. "Slow as molasses!" Nibs taunted.

"So in Pan's absence, it is your duty to be the arrogant and spiteful leader of the bratty lot?" Hook sneered.

"I think we all do a fair share of that. 'Tis the Lost Boy way!" Nibs tossed his blade from hand to hand, jeering Hook to fight with his best imitation of Peter's cocky smile, which honestly, was enough to make the blood in Hook's veins boil and the red in his eyes flicker. Hook lurched at the boy and the boy at him. Steel met steel and the brawl began, and Michael's red head peeked out from the stairs. Nibs kept Hook's back to Michael, so the younger Darling boy glided to the door and as quietly as possible tried the knob, but found it locked.

Wendy heard Nib's voice and was about to call out when she realized that someone was fiddling with the knob, so she put her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing.

Cecco noticed Michael and opened his mouth to warn the captain, but Tootles turned his wrist so that the handle of his blade was up and hit the pirate below his jaw where the soft curve of his neck began, closing off his cry at "Ca-" and making him fall to his knees, gasping for elusive breath.

Charles reappeared from below deck and Tootles made his way to him to inform him of what he supposed was happening. Without another moment's thought, Snowchime grabbed Charles by the collar and tossed him to the platform, just in time to help Nibs from the corner that Hook had pushed him into. The captain finally noticed Michael and shouted orders for his dogs' assistance. Having been discovered, Michael felt no more need to remain quiet. "Wendy! You in there!"

"Michael! Oh Michael! Get me out!" she screamed against the door.

"It's locked, Wendy!" He turned to yell for Snowchime but the fairy was nowhere to be found. "I can't find Snowchime!"

"The key! Get the key!" Wendy tried.

"Where is it?" Michael asked but before she could answer, she heard his cry when Starky managed to knock him away from the doorway. The blade would have run him through if he hadn't lifted his own in time to catch the edge from ripping at his arm.

"Michael!" Wendy cried out, fearing the worst. "No!" Desperate, she picked up a stool that lay to the side and smashed it against the doorknob repeatedly, but the wood soon fractured and splintered in her hands, cutting at her right middle finger and palm.

The battle had quickly moved towards them, pirates trying to reach their captain and lost boys trying to keep them away from Michael, Nibs and Charles. Heath managed to subdue his opponent and tied him to the rigging, hoisting him up to keep him out of his way. He headed towards the cabin when he noticed Juni fall.

Juni lay on his side, holding his injured shoulder as Albino lifted his blade against him, bringing it down for a clean kill, but Heath cried out, startling the pirate enough to give him time to reach them. Heath appeared between Juni and his attacker in a flash, pushing the injured boy out of the way and holding off the pirate's sword with his own. It happened all too quickly, and Juni lifted off the ground, shaking off his minor injury before aiding his friend, but Heath made quick work of the pirate and knocked him into the mast, temple against wood and out he went. Heath stood breathing heavily and turned to his friend. "You all right?"

"Yes. The bugger got the better of me for a split second." Heath reached his hand to Juni's bleeding shoulder, but the former brushed it off, saying that it was just a scratch, so both went off to continue in the fight, two drops of blood left unnoticed on the deck.

They hurried through the air, reaching the platform just as Nibs and Charles found themselves grossly outnumbered. Juni leapt out at a few, slashing one along his knuckles with a dagger that was concealed in his trousers. Heath turned to Starky, drawing his attention to allow Michael to return to Wendy.

"Wendy!"

She screamed out for him again, realizing that the battle was now directly outside the door. "Oh Michael. This is all my fault! Please, let me out!"

"Key Wendy! Where's the bloody key?"

"Michael! Language!"

"Blast it, Wendy! Key!"

"I don't know where it is! I believe Mr. Smee has it!"

With that, Michael leapt off into the air, and searched for the bo'sun, finding him huddled in behind a barrel at the stern of the ship. Smee saw him heading toward himself and the old man got the wits scared out of him, scrambling to run in any direction, unable to decide on one. Michael reached him and pointed his blade to his chest. "Remember me?" he asked with a toothy smile. "Good deeds, huh?" He stretched his free hand out. "The key to Hook's cabin, if you please."

With shaky hands, Smee reached into his trouser pocket, pulling out a large rusted metal ring with various keys of bronze, copper and steel, fidgeting with each to find the key needed. He found it and shakily handed the ring to Michael, not uttering more than incoherent mumbles.

"Thank you, old man." Michael bowed and took off towards the battle again, dodging the many little scuffles, but Hook saw the boy arrive with the keys and cried out in fury for all to slay the brat.

Robbins grabbed for Michael's ankle as the later swooped by and yanked him to the floor, his body hitting the wood with a harsh thud and a grunt. But he threw the keys to Erin who then tossed them to Eric who in turn threw them to Slightly who reached the door, but the key was lost amongst the others and Slightly worked his way through all the keys, placing each into the keyhole while the twins guarded him, fighting off assailants.

"Hurry, Slightly!" Erin cried, finding himself becoming overpowered.

Slightly fidgeted with the keys, moving along as fast as he could manage. "Who the hell needs so many keys!"

Hook roared, knowing that his prize and bait was about to be stolen from him, but there was nothing he could do, for Charles was almost every bit as cunning in battle as Pan, except with more form and less brute strength. Finally, the right key was stuffed into the keyhole and turned. Slightly quickly pushed the door open, almost hitting Wendy in the face.

"Mother!" Slightly cried and hugged her.

"Yes yes! Good to see you as well." She pried his arms from around her and pushed him away. "We must flee!"

"Right!"

They ran out the cabin, Slightly immediately lifted off the ground, but Wendy found that she couldn't elevate much. A pirate fell backwards towards her, almost taking her down with him but she moved out of his way in time. He looked up at her and made to swing his sword against her, but she kicked him in the throat and grabbed his sword, ready to fight her way off the ship.

"Lost boys! Flee!" Heath ordered and all struggled to lift away from the battle. Upon hearing that, Charles turned and saw Wendy, an error on his behalf. Hook kicked his feet from under him and the young man fell on his face. Hook leaned down, grabbed him by the hair and held his hook to his throat.

"No one leaves!" Hook roared, drawing all eyes to them as he pulled at Charles hair to make the boy rise to his feet with his back against the formers front.

"Charles!" Wendy cried.

"All, two feet on the deck. Now!" he ordered. The boys turned to each other and then to Wendy who gasped as she thought it over and finally nodded without looking at any of them. They hesitated, but slowly made their way back to the ship. "Weapons down as well." The boys hissed and growled, but they let go of their weapons, the cumulative clanking on the ground a morose sound to Wendy. "Where's the sprite?" Hook asked.

Cookson stepped forward with a jingling little sack in his fist. "In here, cap'n."

Hook smiled. "Very good" he said and turned his attention back to Wendy. "No need to end your visit just yet. I was starting to enjoy…your _company_," he said cocking his eyebrows as the last word slithered off his tongue. Charles didn't find the lurid form in his speech very pleasing and grunted with irritation.

"Now now, young Mr. Terwood. Sharing is polite."

Wendy felt the color rush to her face as she recalled their posture minutes before. She looked to Charles quickly, anger evident in his face and thanked the heavens that Peter wasn't around to hear whatever vile words would slip out of Hook's mouth.

"You dared to lay your foul hand on her? You loathsome--"

"Uh uh uh…." Hook pressed the tip of his hook to Charles neck, halting his comment. "I do hate it when the newcomers don't know how to behave when at my mercy. Even that cocky boy remains silent when he finds the edge of my hook caressing his flesh. But then, I suppose…you just simply aren't Pan. Right, Miss Darling?"

"Hook, let him go. I'll stay. I'll return to your cabin. They'll leave and I promise; no more rescue attempts."

Hook smiled wickedly, eyeing the girl with undressing scrutiny. "Tempting. Very tempting."

"The hell she'll stay here!" Charles hissed.

"Quiet!" He pressed the hook harder against his skin, this time drawing blood. "Such insolence, my word. What happened to chivalry? The lady wishes to remain here with me. I'm sorry you've lost, but, you see, she is a fickle one." Charles whole body tensed with every spiteful word that spilled out of Hook's lips, his breathing becoming harsher and louder. "Miss Darling, come here please."

Wendy gulped, but her face didn't betray the fear she felt. All that it showed was detest and loathing, a strong glare fixed upon the captain. She moved to him and John made to reach for her, but stopped himself. She stood before Hook and Charles waiting for further instructions.

"Turn around," he ordered and she did as asked, finding herself facing the crew and boys. "I need answers. Why are you leaderless, boys? Where's Pan?"

"He didn't think this little scuffle would be much fun. Age slowed you down, he says," Nibs offered.

Hook chuckled, subduing the anger that bubbled in his belly. "Say goodbye to your young man, Miss Wendy. But no kiss. We don't want a repeat of that pink frenzy that you ignited in Pan, do we?"

Hook felt Charles' body go completely stiff and smiled inwardly to himself. Wendy leaned in towards Charles but stopped but a few inches before his face to look to Hook. "May I speak to him?" she asked in a sour tone.

"You may."

She brought her lips to his ear and whispered her apology for having pulled him into the middle of the mess. "Things will be all right."

"Wendy…" he whispered back as she pulled away, their eyes met for a brief moment, and he read her emotions in the azure of her glistening gaze. She was afraid for her own safety; it was clear to him, but she traded her own wellbeing for his. He couldn't let her. He couldn't allow this man to have her; he wouldn't allow anyone else to separate them. He wouldn't…

The winds changed, lifting the skull and bones high on the mast to the west, drawing Hook's eyes upwards in panic, an opportunity the most skillful of the new lost boys quickly seized. Heath reached for the dagger hidden in his cuffs, and threw it at Hook who veered to his side to avoid the impact. Charles pulled away from the hook, the sharp point further nipping at his neck but to no great harm, and threw himself toward Wendy, pushing her away from Hook as the rest of the boys followed in suit, reaching for their swords. Some managed to regain them and some didn't and merely jumped into the air, avoiding harm. Tweed rushed towards Cookson and slashed as his hands, announcing he meant business. The pirate let go of the sack and Snowchime flew out as it hit the ground.

Nibs quickly charged at Hook before the former could attack Wendy and Charles, but Hook managed to swing his hook at the couple, forcing Charles to make a choice. The young man pushed her over the rail as he held her close to his own body. The last that anyone saw of them was their feet as they went overboard and plummeted down, a choked gasp emitted from Wendy. They hit the ocean with a mighty splash, the waters roaring and calming as it devoured them. Hook pulled out his gun from its holster on his side, but Nibs lunged at him once again, knocking the weapon from his hand. A quick snip of a brawl ensued, but Nibs' patience waned and he leapt into the air and towards the water after Wendy and Charles, dodging Hook's blade on his way down. He searched the surface for them but didn't find a sign of either, other than the ripples now calming away. Hook picked up his pistol, cocked it and fired the last shot at Nibs, the bullet grazing his side in between two ribs. With the sharp yet subdued pain piercing through his body, Nibs lifted higher into the air and ordered for all to retreat. The boys took off and followed him to the island.

"Wendy!" Hook's voice thundered through the air, animalistic and brutish, frightening his crew although none dared show it. But he didn't see a flicker of ivory skin beneath the water or honey brown locks swaying in the tides.

The girl was gone.

vvvvvvvv

"What happened to mother?" Eric asked as they reached the shelter of the forests.

Nibs grunted and walked around in intelligible frantic panic. "I don't know! I don't know! They were…there…and then gone! I…I couldn't find them! I didn't see them!" He sat down on a rock and buried his face in his hands, rocking himself back and forth.

The Darling children fought back tears, calling out to return to the ship and search for them around the waters, but Kip admitted that it wouldn't do much good. The pirates would blast them if they ventured within range of the Jolly Roger.

"Well we can't just leave them to that fate!"

"Mother!" Slightly cried out. "This is all your fault, Nibs! You didn't reach them in time!"

"What!" Nibs shot up and stood before Slightly, their lengths almost touching as Nibs towered over his brother by a good 3 inches. "You can't be serious!"

"I damn well am!" Slightly shouted back, puffing out his chest and looking up at Nibs defiantly.

"Enough!" Tootles intervened, prying himself between the two boys. "Look, a fall like that wouldn't kill anyone! And the croc is long gone, right?" he asked Kip, who nodded. "Okay … look … they probably … uh, swam out of harm's way, keeping below the water so as to not be shot at by the bloody cannons!"

"So what do we do?" Michael asked.

"We can't return home without Wendy," Heath said, keeping his movements oddly sluggish and calm. "I'm sure that's grounds for a good thrashing from Peter if we do. Remember, we left against his wishes. If we return without the captive plus one more missing even, he'd never let us live it down."

"I don't think he'd mind all that much about the one less," Juni added, snickering a bit which he masked as a cough when he noticed the sullen faces around him.

"Hey! Where's Snowchime!"

The boys looked around, realizing their little fairy guardian was absent. "She was to stay by Charles' side. She's probably with them still," Heath guessed.

"That's a good sign!" John added. "She's either searching for them or with them. Either way, they'll be okay…right?"

"Yes, of course." Juni nodded, smiling unconvincingly at the Darling children.


	19. A Mermaid's Kiss

A/N Please postpone your lynching! I offer you a chapter closer to the end.

* * *

**Chapter 19 A Mermaid's Kiss.**

When Peter realized that the sun had set and his men were not to be found in the vicinity, he grew furious. It was obvious to him where they'd gone. He called for Tink, but she did not come. He called for Snowchime but again, the same reply. He mouthed off about each and every lost boy and sped off toward the Jolly Roger. Upon his arrival he was greeted by Long Tom's roar and Hook's curses, but no cries of glee from any young voices. He circled the ship, dodging around the sails and slipping through rigging but he saw not one lost boy.

"Hook! I have come for Wendy!" Peter called out. He'd had enough. Since when did the Pan follow a girl's orders? It was not up to anyone but him to dictate how things would be in his home. "Return her now or suffer the consequences!"

"Do not bother me with your whining boy!" Hook responded, holding out his hand for his men to cease fire; his silent order voiced my Smee. "Search the bottom of the oceans for your lass!"

Peter snarled and cut a section of rigging, bringing the sails down upon a fraction of the crew. "You dared not make her walk the plank! I do not believe it! Bring her out from her prison and return what is mine!"

Hook was not one to pass on the opportunity to injure the boy and a wound to the ego was always best, but he was so weary of the days events, specially the unsettling reaction he felt to losing the girl. "She is not here! But if you feel like you must continue to irritate me, than bring your sword down to the deck and we shall have it our right here and now. Ghost or not, you still bleed and bleed you shall!"

Peter mulled over the situation and Hook's words. Finally, he sped off back into the island not daring to glance at the water below. Hook watched the boy escape and did not care to stop him. His vengeance would soon be and there was no need to rush a few hours or even days if he'd waited patiently for 4 years.

Wendy was definitely not aboard the pirate ship, Peter reasoned, but then the question became _were was she?_ Had she truly met her end at the bottom of the ocean? He forced the horrid idea out of his thoughts as he came upon the Mermaid's Lagoon. He landed on a boulder and hurried through the melody to summon the water witches. A moment later ripples flowed from the center of the pool and Peter watched attentively as three of the creatures appeared and moved toward him. He locked eyes with one, searching for the black aura amidst the gaze that allowed for words to flow between them.

"Your call was not as pleasant as usual."

"We almost did not care enough to come."

"I have questions and I want answers." Peter quickly stated. "Direct answers! No riddles and tricks."

The mermaids sneered and hissed at his demands, but nevertheless they conceded.

"Answers." Peter repeated.

"If it fits us to answer, we shall."

Honestly, that was the best he could hope for from these fickle beings of the deep. "Hook says that Wendy is no longer on his ship. Is he speaking the truth?"

"No untruth has left his lips on this day." The mermaid replied as she liked the tip of a razor sharp tooth with the arrowed edge of her silver tongue.

Peter drew in a deep breath and prepared himself for the next answer. "I left her on Hook's ship. Where did she go?"

"The man called a war upon the pirates."

"Your men followed."

"And Wendy was cast overboard in the scuffle."

"Overboard!" Peter exclaimed, fearing the worst.

"Into the waters."

"Cold and unforgiving."

"Dreadful fate for any being."

"And believe us; mortals do no enjoy such a fate."

"Oh but we do."

"Yes, it is quite fun to watch."

"Is she…dead?" Peter almost turned away from the creatures when he voiced the question.

The mermaid glared back at him, wickedly feeding on the growing desperation in his look. "Your Wendy Bird is alive, boy."

Peter sighed in relief but quickly returned to his stoic gaze. "Where is she then?"

"Below the island." Replied the second mermaid.

"In our den." Added the third.

Peter grunted, knowing that nothing good ever came of visiting the mermaids' home. In fact, it was unheard of that any one would venture in of their own free will, but rather tricked and enticed by the damned creatures. "Why?"

"Is the boy upset with us?" the second cooed.

"But we only did good."

"Into our ocean they fell. Had we not taken them, they would have surely drowned."

"Bring her back." Peter demanded below his breath.

The mermaids made an awful sound that was like the wind howling against bare branches in the middle of a gray night. It was their laughter and a haunting one it was. "Even the Pan cannot command the water to do as he pleases."

"You bring her back to me, or …"

"If he is to be rude, then we are to leave."

"We have no time to waste on impertinence."

"New play things await."

"Such lovely hair on that one."

"And lovely eyes too."

"Like the sapphires we hold."

"We should collect them as well."

"NO!" Peter cried out. "You can't keep her!"

"And why not?" the mermaids asked. "Land is yours. Surface is Hooks."

"The water is ours, and the girl was dropped into it."

"NO! She is MINE!" Peter wailed. "I contest your claim to ownership for it is I that first found her!"

The mermaids looked to each other smiling at their own skill and cleverness. "Very well then."

"We are in mood for trade."

Peter cleared his mind to ready himself for their bargaining. "What is it that you want?"

"That trinket you hold in your parcel."

"The one you took from a cavern so near to our home..."

"That it should rightfully be ours anyway."

"Wendy's kiss?" Peter asked, placing one hand on his side where he kept his little treasure.

"The very one."

"Give us the kiss."

"And you may claim your girl."

Peter questioned their desire for the kiss, but only in his thoughts. Sure the kiss had not left his side since he found it, but if he could save Wendy perhaps she'd be willing to give him another kiss to replace the one he'd trade.

"Fine." He took the parcel out from his breaches and stared into the mermaids' eyes. "No tricks of yours shall be valid in this trade. I desire Wendy by my side; alive and safe. By taking this kiss, you agree to serve my interests in doing so."

"That is much to ask…"

"For one small kiss."

Peter held his ground and cocked one eyebrow.

The mermaid sneered but extended her hand for the parcel.

"Now bring Wendy to me."

"Nothing was ever said about bringing the Wendy to you."

"You may claim her."

"Retrieve her yourself…"

"Just as we had to retrieve this kiss."

Peter grunted. He'd done his best to guard against the witches' trickery, and yet he had been dooped. "And as bounded by our agreement, you shall not interfere in this?"

"We are creatures of our word."

Peter huffed, preparing himself for an ordeal unknowns to him. "Let us not waste any more time. Lead the way." Peter demanded.

The mermaid approached Peter, extending her hand to his wrist and taking hold. With her eyes she commanded his obedience and began to pull him into the water, feet first then waist, finally with one deep breath he submerged entirely. Within the dark waters he could see the creatures, so much more beautiful and elegant within their own element as if he saw them through different eyes. They surrounded him, holding him from his limbs and torso.

The one with blue in her eyes remained before him, placing one hand behind his neck and slowly leaned in to his un-startled surprise. He did not move away nor even flinch at any point, but rather remained in place, held still not by the mermaids' strength of hand but of will. She pressed her lips to his, soft at first but quickly with more force, making him open his mouth as she breathed into him. A chilling breeze entered him, filling his lungs, expanding them to a painful point at which he thought his chest would burst, but the pain gave way as he felt his breathing return and the mermaid withdrew, looking him dead in the eyes.

They released their hold on him, watching as the boy adjusted to his new ability and lead him to their home.

www

Charles felt the warmth around his body; his aches and pains soothed by the gentle flowing of the water. He groaned and opened his eyes, immediately aware that Wendy was not by his side.

"Wendy?" He said, but his call bouned off the cave walls, returning to him unanswered. Focusin away from his concern for Wendy, he found himself sitting in a pool within a cavern, upper body garments completely gone with his hair loosened and flowing around his face.

But he quickly realized he was not alone. There was a slithering movement in the water, swaying from side to side, edging closer to him. Charles backed away from the lurking danger, turning around at his torso toward the edge with his eyes intensely focused on the water's movements. Something began to surface and slowly he could see the dark form that appeared before him was a mermaid; the very same that he'd encountered earlier.

"You stay away madam!" He ordered.

She looked at the man, her eyes piercing and alluring, circling the very essence of manhood that hidesbehind the boyish manners of every male.

"I warn you. I have no qualms in besting a creature of evil, even if it does appear to be female."

She licked the inner edge of her lips, her tongue barely noticeable as the slow movements enticed his sight. She strengthened her own gaze and approached him, slowly and smoothly so that he could scarcely see the distance shortening between them.

"Madam…" He tried to force his eyes away, but he found his will leaving him with every leisured breath he took. He could almost hear her voice, in his ears, in his mind. It was soft and melodious. Longing and longed for.

Soon she was upon him, her hands slowly creeping up his bare chest and unto his shoulders. He held back but remained within her reach, forgetting his readiness to flee. He could feel her breath on the nape of his neck, cool and clean; each breath of hers forcing one out of him so that they chased each other about, entangling themselves until they were in one. He could hear her now. Her inquiries and commands, his temptation and desires.

She circled her hands around his sculptured arms feeling every taut muscle and flow of blood as his own hands rested on either side of him along the edge of the pool; his front now completely facing her.

She breathed out as she moved up his neck and to his face, whispering into his ear words that sounded like no language he'd ever encountered and yet, he could understand every thought she shared.

"You are…a …demon…"

She smiled wickedly and slowly placed her lips on his shoulder, sending before unknown of shivers down his body. She slowly brought his arms away from the edge and lured him deeper into the warm water with her, pulling back gently, forcing him to follow wherever she may lead. Her hand glided to his chin were one finger upon his skin was enough to guide him into the water after her, sinking him deeper into the mist and darkness until both were completely submerged.

Charles could feel nothing more but the mermaids' stare upon him and desired nothing else but her touch. She'd grown to be so beautiful before his eyes, her raven locks floating delicately sweet around her frame; her eyes a radiant ebony and the blue of her skin a silve glow that was becoming of an angel straight from the heavens. A deep slumber engulfed his being, silencing his senses. The light around him grew dimmer by the moment, dissolving all things from sight except for the lovely maiden before him. But even through those depths, he could feel a call and hear a light that beckoned him back..

"Charles."

It said his name, repeating it so often that it became a desperate cry. Eventually the voice had a face and he felt the beautiful creatures hands grasp his face, urging him to stay with her, but the name escaped his lips and the light returned, casting the maiden's beauty from her, revealing her true form. He was startled and frantic, pushing away from the water witch and making his way to the surface, emerging with a giant leap, gasping for air and fumbling to the edge of the pool and out of its hellish waters.

"Wendy?" he cried out as he stumbled to his feet; his breathing harsh and frightened.

www

The boys hid in the tree tops, fearful of anyone finding them for they had much to fear of being found by anyone at this point.

Juni lay on his belly, his limbs dangling from his branch with his face flat against its bark so that his nose was pushed up against his face. "We are in deep…"

"Language gentleman!" John reprimanded.

"It's insane for us to simply wait around. We must tell Peter of what has happened! If Wendy truly is in trouble, Peter will rescue her," Tootles insisted.

"No, no, no. Peter will have our necks for what we have done," Tweed protested.

"And he will have the rest of us if we simply lounge around and some great disaster falls upon Wendy," Curly replied.

The debate raged on and on, some stating that Peter would surely banish them for as long as he could remember and others having more faith in their captain's judgment.

Nibs held a higher and farther position than the rest, trying to keep alert to any approaching pirate, but it was not a pirate's movements that he noticed amongst the shrubbery. He stretched his neck out and elevated some of his weight off the branch, his motion quickly detected by the rest.

They finally silenced and looked in the same direction Nibs was so intently observing. The boy squinted his eyes and sure enough the image became clearer, but not distinguishable. A figure draped in a dark cloth that covered it from head to toe moved from the forest toward the beach, its steps as silent as a burial ground.

With one hand, Slightly signaled for Nibs to get a closer look. The boy moved from tree to tree, mimicking the dark shadows path, stopping and hiding in every place he could. The figure sensed another and stopped abruptly, turning its head slightly, listening but Nibs was well ahead of it and hid his own figure amongst the leaves of a tree. Hearing nothing, the shadowed lurker continued toward the beach and there waiting for it was Jasper and Cecco with a boat from the Jolly Roger. The two pirates made no great gesture toward the figure and took off toward the ship as soon as it seated itself.

Nibs collected this information and returned to the men.

"That is very odd in deed." Heath commented. "Why would any pirate sneak about the island so?"

"I don't think it was a pirate." Eric and Erin looked at each other as if each held half of the thought they were forming.

"You're right lads." Tootles agreed.

"Pirates are scalawags and sneaks, but so clever an untraced path is not their forte." Nibs rubbed his chin. "No. It was too clean. I could not find many footprints on my way back."

John frowned at his own thoughts. "It wasn't a pirate. Men!" he called out. "To the Indian village!" He rushed on foot toward his destination leaving the rest to follow.

www

The water became darker as Peter neared the mermaid's home, but he was so entranced by the gift the witches had bestowed upon that he really paid no mind to the fleeting light until it barely existed. The lack of sight filled him with a sense of urgency and distrust and surely he'd have lost his way in the black surrounding him if it were not for the sirens' fingers caressing the lengths of his body. Under a structure so grand he believed it must have been the very bottom of the Neverland, the mermaids entered. The walls thick with a substance unknown to Peter, encased him in a tunnel with no visible end and a silence almost too loud for him to bare.

The unholy darkness dragged on; no matter how hard and fast Peter swam. The sun had simply seized to be. He began to think he'd never reach the end to this path and cursed himself for having believed the mermaids truthful, but just as he felt despair grip at him, the black around him grew lighter and he could once again see his companions. They turned upward leading him toward more light, and with this feeble sight, he saw the form of the young man with whom Wendy had disappeared.

Charles vainly pulled at a boulder that blocked a large fissure in the vast stone wall. When he noticed Peter he urged him to help with frantic gestures. Peter assumed he meant Wendy was behind the structure and in some grave peril so he pushed Charles aside, and used every bit of his strength on the rock while Charles returned to the surface momentarily for a breath. With their combined strengths, the boulder finally gave way and Peter rushed in leaving Charles to return to the surface before the lack of air completely did him in. Peter found that the crevice was almost as dim as the passage through which he had traveled, the only illumination coming from an opening at the top, but that was all he needed to find Wendy. Her limp and motionless body floated in the light near the opening, her hands falling away from their hold on the jagged fissure; crimson tainting the rock and seeping gently from her hands. Peter took her into his arms and rushed out and upward, crashing through the surface where a horrid pain captured his chest as air bombarded his lungs once more. Charles took Wendy as Peter flopped in the water, and pulled her to dry ground, laying her on her back. He checked her nostrils and mouth for breath but he found none. He placed his ears to her bosom and heard nothing. With one hand on her cheek, he begged the heavens to return her to him and placed his lips to hers, forcing breath into her. Peter watched this with growing fury and took his blade in his hand, ready to pounce on the young man but he stopped abruptly when Wendy suddenly came to life with violent coughs that shook her entire body and water spouting from her mouth.

Charles sighed and gathered her in his arms, pressing her cheek into his chest. "Darling, I feared I had lost you."

"I…feared I was lost as well…" she whispered weakly.

Peter watched the scene with a gaping mouth and furrowed brow. "I saved you."

"Peter!" Wendy pulled away from Charles, ashamed to have Peter Pan see her be held by the young man. "You came for me?"

"Do you think your _man_ could have reached you in time? Grown ups never win here." He said sternly. "And of course I came for you. I can't have you drowning on my watch. Not while I'm captain of this land."

"Oh Peter," she said but stopped herself from showering the boy with the usual lavish praise. She looked around, realizing where they were located and noticed the mermaids watching them with intrigue. "Peter…"

Peter turned to look at the creatures. "They're allowing me to take you home. So let us go. They will not stop us."

"Very well then… let us go." Charles rose to his feet, helping Wendy up.

Peter sunk into the water but quickly shot back up, chocking and gasping for air. "What is this treachery?" He cried out.

"A mermaid's breath lasts as long as a mermaid's breath is drawn."

"How are we to get back home if I can't travel through the water?"

"Sheath your weapon young captain."

"Peter…" Wendy was uneasy at the look of the situation. Peter held his dagger in one hand and clenched his jaw, snarling at the water maidens.

"What is the matter, Pan?" Charles asked.

"I've got this." Peter snapped back without looking away from their captors.

"You promised to assist me in any way needed to take Wendy to safety."

"And that we shall."

"If only the golden boy was not so brash."

"We would have had time to say."

"The waters of the northern springs begin here." The mermaid drew his attention to the dark entrance of a deeper cavern.

"The flow is mighty."

"And travels a long ways."

"Go with her strength and speed."

"Surface through the cascades."

"But this we caution of our own goodness."

"The springs are of the sun's embrace."

"Unwelcoming to living flesh."

"Reach them and there perish Peter Pan and his Wendy lady."

Peter put away his dagger and turned to Wendy. "All is well. I know the way. Come."

Peter grabbed Wendy's hand, giving Charles a look of death and quickly scooped her up to carry her across the water to the other side where the mermaids had pointed. Charles kept one fearful eye on the mermaids and plunged into the water after them, but his path was blocked by one of the maidens.

Wendy gasped and forced Peter to halt.

"This one stays." The mermaids demanded.

"All right." Peter grinned maliciously and moved toward their exit, but Wendy protested.

"Peter, you would not dare to leave Charles to this fate!"

Peter begged Wendy's submission with his gaze, but she would not have it, so he let her down at the cave's entrance and returned to Charles. "You are becoming a great nuisance", he sneered.

With his fists on his hips and his chin high, he turned to the mermaids and sternly said, "He will return with us."

"He was never part of the deal."

"And why should we lose both or toys?"

Peter turned to Wendy, but she held steady. "They will not release him."

"Then I cannot leave without him." She said.

Peter gasped, his brow furrowed from disbelief. "I have traveled to the depths of the Neverland…to a place no creature of human breath should tread, and now you refuse to accept my rescue?"

"Peter", Wendy's expression softened into a melancholy. "I cannot leave him. Just like I couldn't leave John, Tootles…or you…"

Peter groaned with exasperation, "But he is none of them, and certainly not ME! You are being stubborn as usual! Do not force me to take you against your will."

"Peter! You will not take me if he won't come as well."

"It is clear I cannot leave you either! This is where you ended up when I left you as your whims commanded!"

"This is not a whim!" Her voice had escalated, but she quickly regained a hold on herself, realizing she should not antagonize Peter Pan. "Please, Peter. I have never asked anything of such grave importance from you before. Be the hero that I still tell stories about."

Peter huffed and kicked the air, but without another word he turned away from Wendy and approached the mermaids once more. "It seems Wendy shall not leave without this one, and you vowed to assist me in my goal, therefore, you must release him."

"He was not a concern when the deal was forged." The water witches reminded Peter.

"Well, it's a concern now!" Peter said through clenched teeth.

"Well then… We suppose…"

"We did vow."

"But he was really never mentioned."

"Perhaps…"

"We could deal again, young Pan."

"Oh yes…what fun", the other clapped.

"What is it you want now?" Peter asked cautiously.

The mermaids gathered around each other, whispering secretly amongst themselves.

"We do not yet know what will be."

"But something _will_ be."

"Oh yes, that is for certain."

"But oh I will miss this one."

"He is worth a great treasure!"

They turned their attention back to Peter, who was already dreading their choice.

"We ask for something to be given right now."

"But collected later."

"Your word, young one."

"That we shall have one favor from the pirate captain."

"My word that Hook will do you a favor!" Peter laughed.

"Your word that the pirate king will give us whatever we ask of him once and once only."

"I could never force Hook to do anything", Peter scoffed. "I am telling you that right now."

"That is of no consequence."

"Hook needs not be persuaded."

"If our sight be right."

"And life to be."

"Than the captain will do as your promise deems."

"Very well then." Peter wore a smirk of utter satisfaction. He turned to Charles and the mermaid holding him back allowed him passage. Peter returned to Wendy and entered the cave, with Charles not far behind them.

The mermaids grinned, showing the porcelain white of their fangs.

Wendy whispered softly into Peter's ear, "Thank you, Peter", as they approached the end of the tunnel where the sound of gushing water consumed all other sounds. They peered into the opening through which the flow could be seen as it traveled at a frightful speed. "Peter…"

"It's the way the mermaids told me of." He explained. Peter turned to Charles with a glare. "You first."

Charles stepped forward, hesitant of the leap. "And you're sure you'll follow, Pan?"

"Charles!" Wendy exclaimed. "Peter is nothing if not a boy of his word. If this is the path he says we must take, then this is it!"

"Then I refuse to allow for you to follow into this lethal tunnel!"

"It took much cunning for the mermaids to release you and I truly could have simply fled with Wendy in my arms! Now quit your cowering and go!

"I've had my fill of being forced every which way on this island!" Charles

"By your own will and whole or forced and in pieces, but you shall go!" Peter drew his dagger but Wendy stepped between the two, pressing the palms of her hands against Peter's chest. "Please Peter, not now! Charles, please proceed. I will."

Charles still hesitated but slowly he moved toward the edge. "Make sure she goes unharmed", he said before taking a might breath and jumping into the stream. Within a second he was gone from sight and Wendy's concern for him was evident in her eyes. Peter couldn't deny it, although he tried. "Take the biggest breath you can and hold it. Be careful of the sides of the tunnel...so keep your arms out and up."

Wendy looked to Peter and took his hand, squeezing it tight for courage. "Go" he said to her and she jumped, with him following quickly behind her.


	20. Tiger Lily's Hospitality

**Chapter 20: Tiger Lily's Hospitality**

The water swooshed and growled in the hollowness of its underground passage, brutishly tossing and dragging the three up and down its path. Peter laughed with excitement over his daring escape from the watery underworld from which no other had ever returned, hooting in earnest enjoyment, but Wendy's continuous yelps of horror dampened his fun. One of those screams landed quite roughly on Peter's ears. Had she screamed out for Charles?

Peter began to feel an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it, then to dispel it, but no amount of pretending could make him unaware of it. And why should he fight it? Wait…why should he even feel the urge? _It would be so easy to just let him drown. _

Thoughts of utter cruelty seeped into his mind, but he had no time to entertain them. He was sure they were near the hot springs, and if he didn't act now, a boiling death would fall upon them all. Reluctantly but without a second of hesitation, he rushed forward, propelled by his flying, and secured Wendy's hand before searching through the dim water for their unwelcome companion. Feeling the scruff of his neck, he tried to establish a firm grip, but Charles' hand quickly found its way to his and held on fast to Peter's wrist. With a mighty heave, Peter pulled all three upward as soon as moonlight penetrated the tunnel, but the pull of the stream from which they came and the push of the water that dragged them down made it hard for him to escape. Peter called upon every bit of strength he had within him to fight against the currents but it seemed to be insufficient.

Wendy braved the horrible ordeal as best she could, but her lungs were begging for breath. "Pe…" she tried to talk but the water rushed into her face and mouth. A darkness began to overpower her, the feel of pressure in her chest and head numbing away. Her hand began to fall flax and slip away from Peter's. He held on harder but it was too much and he lost her just as one last desperate and mighty heave aided their escape. He growled in horror and fury as they fell through the air along the waterfall and struggled to twist his body around and jump back up and into the cascade. He abandoned his efforts when he caught a glimpse of Wendy wrapped in Charles's arm as the two spilled out of the waterfall as well.

With a heavy splash, they fell into the open stream but Charles found it hard to resurface with Wendy's dead weight. Peter grabbed him by the arm once more only long enough to lift Wendy to the surface, and let go as soon as he held her safely in his own grasp. He let her down gently then collapsed unto all fours. Wendy let out a scared cry for her savior, but he waved her away. Charles joined the two on the stream bed and kneeled by Wendy.

"Are you well?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm fine." She said, her concerned gaze fixed on Peter.

Charles looked to the boy and inquired as to his condition. Peter sneered and sat up, unwilling to show weakness in front of the man. "This is nothing. I've faced greater obstacles than a simple swim." He attempted to rise to his feet but doubled over, further frightening Wendy. She crawled to Peter's side and turned him over, laying his head to rest on her lap and brushing the hair away from his eyes. "Oh you saved us all!" He looked so frail, it almost made her weep.

Peter made a feeble attempt to turn away from her embrace but he succumbed to the gentle, nurturing touch. It had been so long since he'd known it and his skin cried out for any brush of her finger tips.

"Wendy, you're hurt." Charles exclaimed from behind them.

She looked at the palms of her hands and then ripped a peace of her dresses' tattered hem to clean the blood she had smeared on Peter's face. "It's nothing. I cut my hand with a splinter on the Jolly Roger and then on the rocks in the mermaids' cell."

"Here," Charles said, taking the tattered cloth from her. "I'll wrap your hand."

Charles knelt down beside her, and began to dress her wound, gently holding her hand as if it were made of porcelain. Peter growled deep in his throat and rolled away from his place on her lap, eager to get away from this…whatever this was.

Wendy gave him a concerned look but he only glared back. Charles noticed this exchange yet said nothing, not because of any regard for Peter at all, but because of his promise to Wendy. he knew why she had asked this of him, but it seemed that anything he did upset the boy. In truth, he was beginning to get fed up with him himself and he thought himself horrid for this, especially after all he'd found out about him.

"We should rest here for a while." Charles said when he finished. He rose to his feet and wandered around them, glancing at their surroundings. It was upsetting that after all that wandering about the previous night, he could not discern where they were or which way to head. "As soon as you feel up to speed, Pan, find our way."

Peter propped himself up and sat on his rear, one knee bent and the other leg extended before him. He was still weak but in the mood for another scuffle. "Wendy, it's time you tell this man who's in charge around here."

Charles groaned to himself, rolling his eyes before turning to Peter. "I don't mean to usurp your _crown_. I mean to do nothing of the sort. All I want is to get home."

"Then go!" Peter said. "Who's stopping you? Go…this very moment! Neverland doesn't need you, and frankly, I think it hates you."

"Peter!" Wendy cried out, appalled.

"You know very well I can't go home."

"Then you should have thought of that before you came here."

"I didn't come of my own free will, did I? Hook clapped me in irons and stuffed me into the cellar of his flying ship!"

"Then you were a poor warrior! You let yourself get captured!"

"I was protecting Wendy! He came for Wendy!"

"I protect Wendy!!"

"Then YOU have done a very poor job of it! She's braved so many dangers because of you! Not just now but always since she's known you! Do you know what they say of her at home? They say she went insane! They say she was abducted as a child! Disgraced! A lesser creature would have died of humiliation!"

"Don't talk to me about dangers! I'm…"

"King of the Lost Boys! Captain Pan! All that bloody rubbish! Great Pan", he said with a mocking bow, "Defeated Captain Hook right? Then why is he still alive? And why was he allowed to keep a flippin' flying ship!!!"

"I didn't know he was alive! And…I don't need to answer to you!"

"But you do need to answer to her!" he pointed at Wendy. "For goodness sakes…let her go!"

"Enough!!!" Wendy screamed so loud that birds were shaken from their perches in the trees around them. "Charles…enough!"

Peter gave Charles a triumphant smirk, which quickly disappeared when Wendy turned a glaring eye to him.

"I can't take this anymore!" Wendy hollered as she stood up and brushed the dirt off. "None of us asked to be thrown into this situation, but here we are! Peter did all he could to defeat Hook and it really is a wonder to me _why_ he's still alive! And Charles fended him off, risking his own well being for me when he returned! Now we have to stop all this bickering and focus! We need to get home! And Peter will help us leave as soon as possible. Let's go home _…the underground_ home and get the boys and get out before anyone else gets captured!"

"But…" Peter began.

"No…no buts!!! If you're strong enough to fight, than you're strong enough to move. I'm finding our way to safety and Charles you better stick close. Peter…I know you are not bound to help us in any way, but I'm asking you, please….just take us home!

She took a long ,deep, cleansing breath and stared at both boys who were left dumbfounded by her sudden show of force. "Well?" she said with her tightly closed fists on her waist. Peter looked a bit lost and unsure. No one talks to Peter Pan that way…right?

"MOVE!"

Peter jumped up into the air but Wendy told him they would proceed on foot since they were all too weak to fly. "Oh right", he said and he motioned down toward a path that Wendy immediately took up.

Left alone together, the two exchanged apprehensive and embarrassed glances before turning away from each other. "That was your doing." Peter sneered. Charles sighed, rethought the nasty remark he was about to deliver and followed Wendy.

A while later- was the bloody island growing larger? Charles wondered- a cloud of smoke could be seen rising into the sky in the distance.

"Oh Peter, is that Tiger Lily's tribe?" Wendy's eyed beamed with hope.

Peter stiffened a bit, cleared his throat and tried to look unconcerned with their discovery. "Yes. I believe it is."

"Something smells delicious." Charles said as a loud gurgle escaped his innards.

"You're still in good with them, aren't you Peter?" Something stirred inside Wendy's thoughts, and Peter wasn't sure he liked what it could be.

"Yes, I believe I am," he said looking up a tree at a lemur that wasn't doing anything particularly mystifying.

"Well then, let's intrude. I'm famished and I'm sure you two are as well."

"Wow…we're…savages?" Charles exclaimed. He'd heard of their existence on the island, but he had yet to see one.

"Oh that's such a nasty word. They're not really savage at all…except for their princess…she can be a bit…forward."

"Yes" Peter quickly agreed, nodding with such fervor. "…she is very…what you said."

As they neared the smoke and the Indian village came into view, Peter began to drag his feet a bit. Usually, he enjoyed his visits with the tribe, but for some reason, he was dreading something. He looked at Wendy and then at Charles, and the dread disseminated slightly.

"Wendy!" a shout rang out through the night as Eric charged at his sister, jumping in an attempt to land in her arms, but he was too big and heavy and merely succeeded in almost toppling her over. He fumbled to wrap his arms around her waist and pressed himself hard against her front. "Wendy! We were so worried about you! Nibs couldn't find a sign of you and we really didn't have a chance to search! Thank…Peter!" In the wave of sudden euphoria and relief over seeing his mother alive and well, Eric had overlooked Peter's presence until the later stepped forward with his arms crossed over his chest and a menacing look about his jade eyes. The little boy pulled away and fell into rank all by himself, with his limbs perfectly vertical and his chin high. "Sir! Didn't see you there…uh…"

Peter eyed him, allowing him a few seconds to see what fantastic story he would give him. Finally, he took pity on the boy and spoke: "I had left strict orders to not interfere with Wendy's situation. You're brash actions could have cost you your mother."

"Peter, it was my fault." Charles stepped in.

"No…it was mine. It was all me." Wendy pulled at Peter's arm and the golden boy let up his interrogation, but Eric feared that this was not the last he or any of the others would hear of it. "But enough of this. Where are your brothers?" she said as she looked up at the two guards that followed Eric.

"Pan" The taller of the two said. He wore his long dark hair in two braids that fell over his shoulders and chest. Two green lines under his left eye denoted him as one of Chief Rising Sun's personal guards.

"Gliding Eagle." Peter greeted the young man before him.

Wendy's stomach let out a gurgling sound, which made her blush and excuse herself. Gliding Eagle took note of it but directed his words to Peter. "Your men have come to us with serious matters, but they feed as we speak. Perhaps you should join them after you meet with the Chief." He looked behind Peter to Wendy and the new face.

Wendy stared back at him with apprehension. She edged closer to Charles and wrapped her arm around his in a show of camaraderie.

The other guard puffed out his chest and spoke. "It has been a long time since the Darling female stepped foot in our land. She is allowed entrance, and audience with the Chief as long as Pan requests it; but the other man is a stranger, and he is not allowed to look upon the Chief without his permission."

"Looks like we have to part ways here." Peter said with a smirk. "Good luck."

"Peter", Wendy huffed, "you nasty boy."

Peter paid her words no mind and stepped between the two, unlocking her arm from his. The other brave drew his spear, thinking that Peter's actions showed the man was to be un-trusted. Charles glared at Peter but didn't react otherwise. Wendy pinched Peter's side, making him grimace. "Ouch."

"Charles is staying by my side. No more of this splintering off nonsense!"

"And I don't plan on letting Wendy out of my sight." Charles said very calmly.

"And can we please stop all this. I'm wet, cold, tired and hungry." Wendy said feebly. She gave Peter a look of pure misery which played on his protective instincts for the girl and his concern for her well being.

"Mother," Eric pulled on Wendy's dress with gentle fingers. "We should get you out of those damp clothes." He turned his weepish gaze to Peter. "Father, please."

Peter sighed heavily and let out a puff of hot breath through is nostrils. Eric smiled and thanked him. With an authoritative strut, Peter turned to Gliding Eagle and motioned his consent.

Gliding Eagle proceeded on his path. "He shall wait outside the tent while you speak with the Chief. The girl may stay with him or enter with you."

When they reached the Chief's tent, Peter turned to look sternly on Wendy, asking for her choice. Wendy took a deep breath and announced that she would stay outside.

Peter looked away, locking his jaw so tightly that it squared his face. "Fine," he whispered to himself.

Gliding Eagle held the tent's flap open for Peter to step through and nodded to Violet Waters who stationed himself in front of the entrance as the flap closed behind Peter. The night had grown even darker, and the many burning torches that attempted to light the camp cast shadows on his face that hid his eyes and mouth, although Wendy knew exactly where his gaze was held. Every detail of Charles' attire, which was incongruous with anything friendly in Neverland, was scrutinized, and Charles coughed nervously under the weight of inspection, shifting his weight from foot to foot repetitively.

"He's not a pirate, if that's what you're thinking." Wendy snorted. She curled her arm around Charles' once again, forming a seal between the two. Eric offered a wide, toothy grin to the Indian.

Moments later, Peter reappeared with a face that was unreadable.

"What did he say?" Wendy asked.

"Weren't you famished, Wendy?" Peter asked in return with an indifferent tone. "I am. We should eat now."

With little more exchange than that, Peter walked past Wendy and Charles, following Gliding Eagle up a path toward a larger tent with a wider entry way covered with a thin beige hide. The guard stepped aside, allowing the newcomers entry into the dining area where John and the rest of the Lost Boys were hungrily devouring the meal that had been provided for them.

John rose to his feet as did the other boys when Peter stepped foot into the tent, but all sighed with relief when Wendy appeared through the flap behind him, immediately followed by Charles.

"Wendy!" The boys clamored, and Michael rushed to her. A tensed moment of uncertain fate for all present loomed over the reunion, but when Peter hands failed to reach his blade his side, the boys relaxed. Not too much, of course, for this meant that Peter may already know about their feeble attempt at a rescue mission…and their mutiny. They sat back down, nervously eyeing Peter and keeping their feet ready for a mad-dash to safety.

"Is everyone present?" Peter asked with his chin held high. He observed evidence of a battle on each and every Lost Boy, but what was even more evident was the boys' awkward attempts to hide those gashes and bruises. Curly rested his chin on his left hand with his elbow on the table; covering up an engorging bruise on his cheek. Heath leaned forward to block a blood stain on his shirt from view as did Nibs. Juni and Kip tucked their bandaged arms under the table, and John pretended to clean his glasses so that he may keep his disheveled face from Peter's sight Tweed's bruised were all under his clothes, so he was fine, but Erin, Tootles and Tweed had no way of hiding anything, for they were unluckily right in front of Peter. Slightly and Michael were the least harmed and therefore had little to hide.

"Yes, sir!" Heath and Nibs answered in unison.

"Very well then." Peter stepped up to the circle and looked down upon Tootles and Tweed who quickly scrambled away to give ample sitting room to their captain. Peter took his seat as servers immediately laid plates of food before him: A stew of deer and potato, corn, grapes and oranges, and small rounds of bread. Curly nudged for those to his right to scurry down the circle to allow Wendy a spot as well next to Peter and another for Charles.

Silence reigned as the boys were still unsure of Peter's retribution, but when his eyes twinkled and the corner of his mouth curled, the boys smiled wider than they had in days. "This is definitely than nuts and berries!" He announced and he dug both hands into his food, disregarding any inquiries as to their presence, appearance and even actions during the previous day. There would be time enough for punishment later.

Remarks of agreement sprang forth from every inch of that tent and the boys returned to stuffing their faces with even more vigor and less manners than they had before their captain's arrival. Except for John, who continued to chew his food thoroughly, glancing all around the table with shifty, wandering eyes. He laughed at any and every witty retort that landed on his ears and even at some that weren't so witty, but offered very few of his own. He looked to his right and to his left, yet never lingering, not even briefly, to glance at Tiger Lily who had strutted into the tent just moments behind Peter, Wendy, and Charles.

The princes regally watched over their meal, playing the part of a good hostess only as far as making sure their bellies were full before she allowed the servers to retire. When Peter yawned and stretched, the rest took note and did the same. This opportunity Tiger Lily did not pass up, and she quickly moved to Peter's side and asked whether he and his men would like to stay in their camp until day break.

"Night has fallen heavily and so will the meal in your bellies you have just consumed." She said. "It is unwise to travel now, even more so because of the news your men have delivered to us."

Peter eyed the princes with a look that seemed distrustful, or at the very least apprehensive.

Tiger Lily grunted deep in her throat and looked away as if uninterested in what she herself had just suggested. "But I suppose, Peter Pan does not worry too much about pirates."

"Peter…" Wendy spoke up. "It is awfully dark tonight…what with no moon. And I am dreadfully tired from all our traveling today."

"Mother would like to rest here, Peter." Michael pleaded and the rest of the Darling boys joined in as well.

"Please, Peter."

"…for mother."

Peter smiled a sly smile in response. He glanced at each boy, happy to feel not so much their loyalty, but their deference toward himself. With a nod from Peter, Tiger Lily gave the order for accommodations to be made for the lot and took leave herself. After the meal was over, by Peter's lead, the boys asked to be taken to where they may rest. Swords by their sides and hats and shoes thrown around the tents, the boys slept almost immediately. It had been a harrowing day, after all.

But Peter did not rest so comfortably, for when Wendy approached an Indian maiden to inquire about her rest place, Tiger Lily stepped in. "You may stay with me."

Wendy was surprised with her generosity, for she had never known the Princess to address her so…kindly. Tiger Lily had never been rude, but she had been far from hospitable toward Wendy. As the girl walked behind the Princess, Peter remained frozen in place with a dread he couldn't understand. Finally, War Hawk pointed him toward his tent and Peter forced himself to turn in.

They walked to a distant section of the camp without even a word of conversation. Wendy closed the flap behind her as she stepped into the tent after Tiger Lily and glanced around at the many animal pelts and other such ornaments that decorated the interior: harpoons, daggers, arrows, a headdress, her toiletry and of course, her wear.

"I don't believe I've ever been in your private chambers." Wendy said. "It's all very fascinating. You seem to be quite a warrior yourself. I've never been able to wield more than a sword…of course I wasn't too bad at it. Actually, I was quite good for only having played at the skill rather than actually learned it. Do you…"

"I've sent away my attendants for your convenience, so you must assume their tasks." The princess sat on a rather plush bear skin with her back to Wendy. She signaled for her to pick up the wooden brush to her side and undid her braided hair, allowing the ebony silk threads to cascade down her back.

Wendy fumed for a moment, but did as was expected of her. She eased toward the princess and began grooming her with the care one would take while handling a wild feline. "You have lovely hair."

"It is a trait of my family." Tiger Lily replied. "I suppose such blood emblems pertain only to royalty."

Wendy scowled at the disdain in the princess' comment. "Well, I do believe I have my mother's hair, and John has my fathers and Michael's red hair derives from my great grandmother on my mother's side. She was part Irish and…"

"Yes, your brother's hair is of a strong, fine nature. The depth of color shows the depth of wisdom."

Wendy glanced at her own light brown tresses, suddenly aware that she had the lightest color of hair in her family. "What does that say about Peter?" Wendy laughed half-heartedly.

Tiger Lily turned a belittling eye toward Wendy. "Pan is his own person." Tiger Lily countered. "His hair is unlike anybody else's. It is golden like the sun, like his skin. He moves like the wind and fights like the lion. There is no comparing his mane to any _common_ person's hair."

Wendy had to fight the all consuming urge to pull on the silken ebony locks in her fingers. "It was quite nice of you to offer me a place to rest, considering that you can hardly stand me."

Tiger Lily remained imperious in her posture. "No one but Pan speaks with such directness to me."

"You seem to think much about Peter…and a lot."

"Peter is the wonderful boy."

"Yes, I know."

Tiger Lily smirked. "Is the Wendy-lady boastful about her intimacy with Pan?"

Wendy gagged and fell back, clutching the brush to her bosom. "Intimacy? I will have you know that I've never…Peter and I….anyone!"

Tiger Lily turned on her seat to glance back at Wendy over her shoulder. "Then it does not matter to you that I have shared such a moment with Peter."

All words left Wendy, except for a whisper of: "what?"

The princess brandished a smile that darkened the midnight in her eyes. "Peter does make one feel…like more…doesn't he?"

Every word that attempted a break from Wendy was seized in her throat. Without a streak of effort, the princess had apparently ripped Wendy apart and found the most intimate and private realm of her being; a place only meant for herself to know and silence.

The wicked grin softened into a girlish chuckle and Tiger Lily extended her hand to assist a bewildered Wendy to her feet. "You come to Pan's home with another at your side and still it wounds you to hear that you may not be the only one is Pan's heart?"

Wendy refused her assistance, raising herself to meet the princess in the eye. "I did not return joyfully or completely of my own will, if you must know." She placed the brush in the Princess' hand, debating with herself whether she should march out of the tent in a defiant show of disregard for the Princess or simply lay to rest at the farthest end she could manage with her back to her…still in a defiant show.

The smirk never wavering, Tiger Lily closed her fingers around the brush handle. "Very well. We are done with grooming." With her back now to Wendy, the smile faded, replaced by a depth of time and space in the abyss in her eyes. It was now or never. "It is hard to be another's when you're heart has already been given to one. I am pleased to see that you have learned to do so."

"_I beg your pardon?!"_ Appalled by the impertinent line of questioning, Wendy's tone escalated and her fists tightened where they hung down her sides. "Your _highness_, I feel forced to ask you to refrain from prying into matters that are none of your concern!"

"None of my concern." Tiger Lily repeated the phrase in a whisper to herself. "None of my concern?" This time, it was for Wendy's ears, and the tone was carefully indiscernible.

"Yes!" Wendy cried out. "Private. Personal. Matters!"

In a flash too quick to be foreseen, Tiger Lily turned and pounced on Wendy, an arrow in her hand with the sharp, shinning tip pressing down over Wendy's heart. The wind from her leap still wrestled around the two after she claimed her pray, tousling the Princess' newly groomed, sleek locks so that they landed over her shoulders and framed her face, hiding her features in a jungle of dark shadows. Only a sliver of her piercing midnight eyes were visible, and the curl of her upper lip exhibited a lethal white edge of teeth. "Silly girl!" She hissed. "It must be wonderful to _think_ you have your own person!"

"You will release me at once!" Wendy managed to chirp. "If Peter were to know you have treated me so, he'd…"

But she did not finish her sentence. Wendy fell sideways, shoved by the force of Tiger Lily's backhand connecting to her cheek. "How dare you!?" The princess hissed. "How can you continue to pry on Pan's heart, seeking his protection and offering him as retribution!?"

Indignantly, Wendy brushed the stinging area on her face with the back of her fingers. It had been no secret that Tiger Lily had never found Wendy a pleasant or desirable presence in their world, but the latter would have never thought her capable of laying more than dirty looks on her person. Wendy tried her best to hide the shock that sprang through her being from showing on her face. "Is this why you brought me here? To insult an attack me?

Tiger Lily clenched her fist, but restrained her hand from reaching Wendy again. "Must everything always be about you? Pretty little Wendy-Bird! Gentle little London dove! Spoiled, pampered, gilded-caged, song bird! Bewitching and luring for your own boastful pride! Then fleeing through the air when the golden cage becomes too small for your self-conceit!

"What are you…"

"We can't follow!" Tiger Lily cried out. "We mustn't follow! I've accepted it! But he! He hasn't! And he will follow you to the end and Hook will greet him there!"

Wendy's lower lip fell, leaving her mouth slightly agape. The hand that had nursed her tender cheek fell away and her eyes dropped with something between shame and understanding. Tiger Lily dropped to her knees beside Wendy, embarrassed by her outburst. She had not planned this meeting to go as it had.

"Then, Tiger Lily, what is it you wished?"

"John continues to seek me. Nothing I do or say has stopped this." The eyes that had moments earlier glared at Wendy with murder in their depths now pleaded. "You must make him cease."

And it finally dawned on Wendy that she was not the only one who had had to make choices in the past, and had been plagued with matters of loss. _John._ Of course, it was easy to get lost in her own dilemmas when she felt pulled in every direction by everyone, but how could she have overlooked her brother so drastically? Those nights she had spent sitting up with her arms wrapped around her knees, pressing them to her chest, thinking about the dreams of a boy with emeralds for eyes and sunshine for hair, had she truly ignored her own brother's longing?

"But he loves you." Wendy begged for her brother.

"Then I wish he wouldn't." Tiger Lily looked to the shadows cast unto the tent's walls by the fires around the camp. The guards were still in place at the entrance of her private quarters. Her voice dropped to a murmur only Wendy could hear. "There are things that _must _pass and uncertainties that might. I only ask that you keep John from following after."

"I don't understand." Wendy's volume mimicked the princess, unsure of the reason for secrecy, but becoming increasingly frightened by it. "After what?"

But Tiger Lily had either not heard her or ignored her, for she seemed preoccupied with events beyond the tent walls.

"What exactly is going on?"

"Keep your voice down." Tiger Lily insisted, throwing a cautious glance at the silhouettes.

"I'm scared" Wendy pleaded. "I feel it. And everyone knows it…everyone except Peter…what is going to happen?"

Tiger Lily turned her sight to Wendy, the look in her eyes relaying a struggle against life itself. "What _needs_ to happen."

And the next moments were unreal.

The guards rushed in and tore Tiger Lily away from her seat on the ground. Wendy opened her mouth to scream but a heavy hand slapped tightly on her lips, preventing any sound from being released. She kicked but found no floor beneath her feet as the guard dragged her into a deadlocked embrace. Tiger Lily, however, did nothing. The last image of the princess that Wendy saw was her saddened gaze peering back at Wendy as the burlap sack was thrown over her head and swallowed her entirely.

wwwww

When Tinkerbell returned to the underground home, she found no sign of anyone, not even Peter, who she had hoped would have returned by now. After a minute of deliberation, she decided to stay in place and wait for anyone to return, for of late, it was too tiresome and time consuming to search the island.

The coo coo clock struck three o'clock and Tink zoomed by each entry way, stopping momentarily to listen for any sound of arrivals. Disappointed, she turned to occupy her seat in her apartment again, her eyes wandering absently around the home in a vain attempt to occupy her time. She happened upon the blond locks that remained scattered on the ground. Somebody had made a poor attempt at sweeping up the mess and Tink laughed at boys' incompetence with such small tasks. But her smile faded too soon and she slowly approached the single strands of hair left abandoned on the floor. She reached a hand out, but quickly pulled it away, holding it in the other as if it had been burned. She reached out again and picked up a hair to examine it closely, allowing herself to drop to her knees. She shook her head and haphazardly gathered as many as she could from around her, shaking her head harder with each bunch she accumulated. It was no use. They were all the same. Every single one of them. Tink tossed them as far away from her as possible and remained in place, her head hanging so that her eyes were concealed in the shadows from her bangs. She wiped the lonely tear that glided down her cheek with a heavy hand, smearing it rather than clearing it off.

'It must be.' Even if it meant losing…

No.

She could not let it happen. She would not let it happen.

Tinkerbell pounded a determined fist into the dirt floor and scooped up a tiny handful of the yellow locks before shooting up into the air, in a race against time and fate. Her tiny glow became a golden streak painted against the night sky, but she was not alone as two more blurs of light immediately shot out from around the tree stump from where she exited the underground home and gave chase to the fairy. Tinkerbell pushed faster, holding on to her urgent cargo but silver lassos sprang forth, wrapped tightly around her ankle and waist and drew taught. She snapped back, the hairs falling from her outstretched hands that swiped wildly for them, but it was no use. With a mighty tug, Tinkerbell was pulled back and slammed against a broad, heavy chest into wide arms that locked around her slender form. She looked into ice clear eyes that looked down on her with no emotion.

"Please!" she pleaded as her other captor clapped silver irons of light around her ankles and proceeded to do the same to her wrists.

The two said nothing, although she continued pleading. One more restraint around her waist, and the assailant binding her wiped his lasso at her waist, never injuring her, but adjoining it to the silver chain. The other's lasso found was wiped in place as well, and without another look into their prisoner's eyes, they pulled her struggling form away, dragged into the deepest realm of Neverland. .


End file.
